Gears of War: Rise of the Lambent
by The Real F'n Scorp
Summary: Even he was capable of falling in love. How does Delta's resident cynical sexist deal with his feelings?
1. Aftermath

**A/N**: This is a story taking place following the end of GOW 2 and which is during the events of _Jacinto's Remnants _by Karen Traviss. Also, I have only rated this a T because I believe that the novels are rated such and I am going from a literary POV more than a Game one (which would easily hit the M for sure) but due to your average Gears of War cursing factor I am personally wording that this is a** T+** story (my own rating). Be advised :)

**Disclaimer**: Quite a few of the quotes and scenes are going to be similar (or copies of) to those published in the novels by Karen Traviss and yes, this prologue is supposed to actually parallel the opening prologue from _Jacinto's Remnants_. But I own nothing but my take on the story and Lia...

Reviews are definitely appreciated as always.

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><p><em>Your world can end in the blink of an eye. One event, one unexpected twist of fate... and suddenly the world as you knew... is gone. Forever. All that you held dear, all that you held close... is washed away in a sea of distant memory. Life... is cruel. Of this I have no doubt. But life continues on... with, or without you. One can only hope that one leaves behind a lasting legacy. But so often, the legacies we leave behind... are not the one we intended<em>… (Queen Myrrah of the Locust Horde, addressing the Locust troops that had managed to flee the Hollow before the detonation of the Lightmass Bomb.)

**King Raven KR-273, Jacinto airspace, Mass evacuation of Jacinto City, Winter, 15, A.E.**

We are so fucked. And that is a serious understatement. Whoever doesn't believe that needs only to take a look down there to see just how fucked we are. Man, there is nothing but boats and bodies and debris being swallowed by the burning sea. Things will never again be the same for the people of Sera. Chairman Prescott wants us to believe that we can build a new Jacinto on Port Farrall. But he's wrong. So very, very wrong. Jacinto is gone. Just-_gone_. I'm standing here looking out the Raven's bay door as it circles around as if I'm on some eerie sightseeing tour. I can see the Allfathers Library going under- what's left of it at least. Even buried under all that water, Jacinto still burns. And still reeks of blood and death and destruction. Shit, the city is sinking now. Just… _sinking_. The whole city is just… gone.

And _we_ were the ones who sunk it.

Fifteen years of trying to save it- of trying to preserve it as the last bastion for humanity- and we had to destroy it in the end just to keep it out of Locust hands. At least a good majority of those bastards were drowning right along with it. That was some type of justice I suppose. But I am not foolish enough to believe that we have completely eradicated the Locust Horde. Queen Myrrah will be back as soon as she can rally her fragmented troops together. And she was going to be stronger and more vicious than before. Such was the way of genocidal psychopaths. God, I don't want to see any more of this carnage. I can't stand seeing my world come to an end like this. But I just can't bring myself to look away.

The bodies that float in the water are quite obviously human- not Locust. The rescue boats didn't get to everybody. How could they? There were hundreds of thousands of survivors- at least- in Jacinto City. Even if we had had a proper Navy still, we wouldn't have been able to get everyone onto rescue boats. But how many did we get out? How many did we manage to get out of Jacinto alive? I wasn't completely sure that I wanted to know the answer. No matter how many it was, it wasn't enough. Any life lost was one too many for me. Especially when you have lost as many as we have.

"Lieutenant…"

Corporal Jace Stratton has to yell. He looks like he is searching for something, leaning over the safety rail, watching the water as it pours over what little of Jacinto can still be seen. We've got pretty much all that remains of Alpha-Seven on board- Jace, myself, Major Valosky and Privates William Barkane and Jeter Stanson. Controller Tanya Lorton can't raise anybody on the comm, and is sweating over it. So am I.

"You think they made it?"

"Say that again, Corporal?"

"Dom. Marcus. Cole. Baird."

Yea, Jace has just as much reason to worry about the members of Delta that I do. He had been a member of Delta before being reassigned to Alpha-Seven as their commanding officer. But the bond was still there, was always going to be strong. Comradeship was what being a Gear was really about. It was that fellowship of brotherhood, of being part of an extended familial unit, of having someone at your back when times were tough. That, more than anything, is what I want to see survive this war. We- the survivors of the Human-Locust War- were going to need that if we wanted to build a new tomorrow.

"They made it." Sometimes it's hard to believe. But I have to believe it, and so does Jace. And as long as we believe, it was going to be true. "Delta has been in worse situations and managed to get out alive. They did this time, too."

Stratton nods as if he heard okay. Yea, its bullshit and we both know it. We've lost so many family and friends that we can't sleep without seeing their faces. But I've got to _believe_. Jace might be the commanding officer of this unit, but _I'm_ the senior officer. Team morale is my responsibility. No matter how bad things might get, it's up to me to set the tone. To keep them going. To keep them believing.

"They'll make it, Corporal!" Major Kyle Valosky shouts from the cockpit. "Ain't no friggin' grub alive that could put Delta down for the three count!"

Private Stanson is sitting in one of the transverse bulkhead seats, head bent as if he is praying- yeah, go right ahead and pray Private. Do whatever it takes to keep you going. Private Barkane is going on about his girlfriend, Miranda. I can't catch everything he says. Ravens are the noisiest bastards.

"I've never… didn't… talk about… with Miranda," he says, all stiff and formal sounding, like we don't know what's been going on between the two of them. "Not… really."

I can fill in the gaps. Relationships between officers and enlisted men were strictly frowned upon by command. But it was a different case when the relationship was between an enlisted man and civilian. Hell, what does it matter in any case? Most of command's dead. Whoever's left has much more important things to worry about at this moment. And you and Mira been dancing around each other for the better part of the last year. Is this what sane people do? Dance around and never admit how they really feel? Must be. I been doing it for the last fifteen years. _Please be alright. I don't want to face tomorrow without you._

"Private, make a list of all the things you want to say to her," I shout. "And say them to her when we get to Port Farrall!"

"Say that again?"

"_Stop beating around the bush and talk with Mira_!"

"Okay," he says to himself, sort of smiling without actually looking happy. I can hear him just fine at the moment. "I'll talk with her when we get to Port Farrall."

Then he sits down and begins fiddling with his comm piece. We'll be at the RV point in less than twenty minutes. I can't stand looking at the devastation below anymore. So I look up instead. The sky is black with smoke and Ravens, every last aircraft that we could get off the ground, heading for a place in the middle of nowhere, just like the boats and whatever motorized vehicles were able to get out of Jacinto by road. But this is _all_ we have left. This is what remains of the entire Coalition. And Chairman Prescott believes that we can rebuild our world? Yeah, he's full of shit.

Major Valosky is in a hurry. We're cutting through the other Ravens, and I'm looking into every open bay that we pass, searching. And you know that believing bullshit? It actually works so long as you have something to hold onto. I'm not asking for a lot and I know that I don't have any right to ask you for anything, but Blessed Mother, I just wanna see them. I just wanna know they are okay. That's all that matters isn't it? Hell yes it's all that matters.

"…going to take days to get an accounting of all survivors, Lia." Jace shouts.

I bow my head for a moment. "… command knew the risks, Corporal."

No, _Chairman Prescott_ knew the risks. And he neglected to inform the rest of us peons about what it was that he had decided. I'm about to remind Jace of that when Tanya jumps to her feet.

"Lieutenant- the comms are back online." She's got one hand pressed to her ear. There are a couple of clicks in my ear and my own comm is filled with sound- blessed sound. "The emergency relay on the _Sovereign_ has been made operational. We've only got a limited range though. Maybe two hundred klicks, at most. But it's working at least."

"It's better than nothing, Tanya," I say. "And we know the procedure for if we lose communications again."

I can hear the voice traffic now. Tons of people who need to know the same things I do: who's out there, who else made it, are they alright. I haven't heard from Sergeant Mataki since the Landown incident. But I'm not worried. Not yet at least. Bernadette Mataki was tough as they come. She was a survivor. She made it out of the Hollow. I just have to believe it. What the hell. Let's see where Anya is.

"Control, this is Lieutenant Carmine." Hell, I wouldn't even mind hearing _Hoffman's_ gruff voice at this moment. "Anya, you receiving?"

"I am, Lia," says Anya's voice. I can feel Jace's hand on my shoulder and reach up to squeeze it. After all the agony and the devastation of the last few weeks, the unfailing comradeship of being a Gear was the most comforting thing in my life. "Have you heard from Marcus or Dom?"

I don't get a response. Probably lost the damn signal. But then I realize I can hear Anya sigh in that way that says that she has something to tell me and which I am not going to want to hear. See Anya and I, we're the closest to what each can call a best friend. We share a lot of things in common. We were both lonely and rich kids that lived in the shadows of very respected Gears. We both love men that we know we shouldn't but can't stop ourselves from loving anyway. Anya is the only one who knows the truth about who the father of my son Alex is. She has been my biggest supporter, helping me to keep a secret that could change the lives of all of us if it should ever be discovered. And a secret like that tended to deepen friendships. As do the dark and desperate times that each of us has faced over the last fifteen years.

"They made it out fine Lia. But…" I already know what is coming next. Shit, how often do you need to hear the word, _but_, and not figure out what is coming next? "Dom…" Anya says, all serious and proper and normal sounding. As if I was going to believe that she was really as calm as all that. I know better. "Dom found her. She was in the Hollow. Lia, she was _in_ the Hollow."

Yeah, I know who Anya is talking about. Everyone under the sun knows that Dom had been searching for his wife in every scrap yard of humanity that existed. But even knowing the answer, I can't stop myself from asking anyway.

"Is she okay?"

"She… didn't make it Lia."

Just because I was expecting it doesn't mean that it hurts any less to hear. I know Dom had hopes of finding Maria and getting back the life that the Locust had stole from them. But now, when he finally does find her, he doesn't get the happily ever after that he deserves. What the hell do I say to him? How do I tell him that everything is going to be okay? That Maria is in a better place? That she's with Benedicto and Sylvia and all the rest of his family and fallen friends? It's bullshit and I know it. There is no better place- not for those who are still among the living. Just when you think it's over, that the pain is going to stop and the healing begin, you find that the hurt has just found a new place to move, someone new to torment.

"Lia?" I know there is more that Anya wants to say but we both know that now isn't the time, nor is a public comm the right place.

"I'm still here Anya." Yeah, I'm still here. Don't know why or even how I managed it, but I'm still here.

"Talk with Dom, alright?"

"I will Anya. See you in Port Farrall."

I almost wish that we hadn't flooded the Hollow now. I'd love to take a Lancer and stick it up a few Locust asses. _That_ would be real justice. And be so much easier than talking with Dom.

_Aw, shit._


	2. Port Farrall

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything in the GOW universe and I don't profit from this story except for the pleasure that it gives me —sadly heh. Reviews are always welcomed!

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><p><em>Ours is a population used to emergency drills and evacuation protocols. Our people will move when they are told too. Go where they are told too. But moving's the easy part Mr. Chairman. It's leaving everything we knew behind that's going to be the hardest. It's the start of Frost now. Somehow we have to have enough equipment and supplies to keep this giant refugee camp running for the next few months. But we've already lost so many people. And we'll likely lose a lot more before this is all over and done with. And somehow Mr. Chairman, we are the ones who have to understand what our world had to do to survive—and we must come to accept what we did for the sake of surviving. And we must grow from that. <em>(Royston Sharle, Head of Emergency Management, Jacinto).

**PORT FARRALL EVACUCATION TREATMENT STATION, NORTH TYRAN COAST**

**TEN HOURS AFTER FIRST FLOODING**

Anya Stroud couldn't tell if she was looking at utter chaos or a well-oiled machine. She stood on the Armadillo's open ramp with her jacket wrapped tightly around her, hands thrust in pockets, watching a steady flow of wounded and sick streaming past, many of whom didn't look capable of surviving the first twelve hours of this evacuation, much less an entire twenty-four. Snow was falling now and temperatures were falling fast. It had been the absolute worst time for an evacuation. And it was the hardest time for Anya, who had absolutely nothing to do for the first time in fifteen years but worry—about Marcus, about the mental mind frame Dom might be in, about how they'd all manage to survive long enough to see tomorrow, about what tomorrow even meant at this point. She didn't dare hog the comms channels, no matter how desperately she wanted to check in with Marcus. She should be back at the CIC, manning the comms, keeping a tally of the Gears on patrol, tasking them as they reported in. Some Gears had already been sent out on security duty, others diverted to helping with clearing buildings or to well-deserved rest periods.

_How many civilians are out there right now? How many Gears? Will we ever really know how many lives we lost today?_

"You should get some rest while you can. Might not be these kinds of opportunities once things start to get more hectic around here."

Lia spoke as she stepped up onto the 'Dill's ramp. Somewhere in the last eight hours she had removed over half of her body plates and donned medical fatigues with her combo boots. An ancient but well-loved stethoscope hung around her neck, a snub pistol from a holster at her waist. Flakes of snow glittered in her hair, clung to the sleeves of the faded lab coat.

"I'm alright," Anya replied. "Besides-" she bit off a sigh. "I'm too revved up to sleep."

"I imagine that everybody feels that way tonight."

Lia turned to look back at the treatment center. Anya went on scanning the scene around her. To her left, she could just barely see the city of Port Farrall through the line of parked trucks and Centaur tanks. Some of the buildings were backlit by APC lights as Gears, EM Teams and sappers worked together to make what buildings they could inhabitable. There wasn't anybody in Port Farrall that believed the threat of the Locust Horde was completely over. There'd be more stragglers that would likely pop up in the next few days—weeks, months. And they'd be just as dangerous and just as vicious as before. And within the close confines of this abandoned city, a Locust infestation could be catastrophic.

_We knew the drill. We've had evacuation plans in place for the last fifteen years. But still… how do we make this work? How do we get an abandoned city ready for ten thousand—much less a hundred thousand—to inhabit? We only have a few days in which to make this place habitable. _No, not days. _Hours_. Even having had evacuation plans in place had not afforded them the time they had needed to prepare. And evacuating at the start of Frost had certainly not helped the matters any.

"Anya?" Lia turned to face the rear of the Armadillo just so she could see the upper works of the CNV _Sovereign_, illuminated by navigation lights as the warship bobbed in its dock in Merrenat Naval Base. She breathed in slowly. Salt air, water, biting cold. "How's Dom? I haven't had the time to go and find him what with so many injured needing tending too. How's he holding up?"

"I don't know," Anya replied. In her green eyes Lia saw the same worries that she was feeling. "Delta was put on stand-easy after their Ravens landed and logged off the radio net." She turned her head and studied Lia's face. "I haven't been able to catch up with either Marcus or Dom what with all the confusion and chaos."

"I wanted to raise Dom on the comms as soon as our Raven landed." Lia paused to take a deep breath. "But I didn't want to bog the comms channels with unnecessary chitchat or give the gossipmongers anything more to talk about."

She stepped down the ramp, tilted her head so she could study the night sky. Anya thought she looked more than a little tired, more than a little pale and more than a little sad. Well, it had been a difficult day for them all. Anya wondered if Lia had even gotten a chance to find her family-which included her cynical and frequently challenging husband, before she'd been hustled off to aid with the wounded.

"I haven't used the comms for the same reason," she said finally. "But I do know Marcus and Dom were together when the first Locust stragglers were spotted."

"That's-" Lia paused to look at something in the crowd of refugees.

A young boy, maybe ten or so, struggled through the press of bodies and flung his arms around the waist of a woman standing to one side of the stream of people. People parted to avoid them, and Lia watched a tearful reunion. Then a little girl, a little younger than the boy appeared in the crowd and started to push her way through, yelling, "Mommy! _Mommy!_"

"Well, that's one family with some type of happy ending," Lia muttered. "Woman is the wife of one of our Grindlift Drivers." There was a deep silence, like a unified holding of breath. Anya knew that breathe of silence. Lia didn't use it often, which made it all the more effective. "He died on the operating table an hour ago."

The satisfaction of having flooded the Hollow had long since given way to the guilt of how many lives that had been lost in the process. And Anya knew that there was nobody more heavily bogged down by those layers of sticky guilt than Lia Carmine. Lia didn't have either Doc Hayman's tough as nails personality or her cool detachment about the practice of medicine. She felt every life that she lost and she mourned for it; felt responsible for not being able to do more to save that person from dying. There was both sympathy and patience in her voice.

"Fighting the Locust was the easy part, Lia. We knew this wasn't going to be an easily won war. And we knew that there could be massive human casualties in the process."

"Yea, we stop fighting grubs, and start thinking about starting civilization over, only to find out that starting over is not going to be as easy as we thought it would be." Lia sighed as a cool, moist breeze blew across her face. "But coming to terms with the amount of lives lost is proving to be a lot harder than we thought it would be."

"I don't think that we will ever come to terms with the amount of lives that have been lost," Anya shook her head. "How can we?"

"What are we going to do about Dom, Anya?"

She hadn't meant too just blurt the question out, but damn it, it was something they had to work out. She turned her head and Anya could see the restlessness in eyes that were gray as witch-smoke.

"He's still numb to what happened down there in the Hollow—still in a state between knowing it as reality and believing it had to be a dream. The grief hasn't had a chance to set in yet, nor has he even begun to move to the processing stage."

Lia lifted her hands, let them fall in frustration.

"Dom's a strong man, we know that, but he's had a lot hit him in his life. And he's managed to work his way through most of that and keep functioning—but I don't think he's strong enough or capable enough of handling this. I'm afraid this could be the proverbial straw that breaks the camel's back."

Anya had been telling herself the same thing.

"I don't have an answer for what to do, Lia. I don't even know if there is a right or wrong answer at this point. But I'm worried that this could be more than Dom can take, too."

Dom had not only protected her from the insensitive inquiries after her mother had been killed, but he'd also been there to help her find her grounding. Now was her chance to return the favor.

"The best thing that we can do is let Marcus handle whatever happens. And be there when Dom needs us to be."

"Just when you think it's over, that the pain is going to stop and the healing begin, you find that the hurt has just found a new place to move, someone new to torment," she sighed again. Anya only nodded. "Anyway, I had better get back to the treatment center. Still plenty of injured that need tending too."

"Lieutenant?" Colonel Victor Hoffman strode up to the APC, boots crunching on the frozen slush, and indicated somewhere back down the line of parked vehicles with his thumb. "The Chairman is waiting for a status update on how many people have made it out of Jacinto at this point. Do you have one that I can give to him?" Facing Lilia Carmine took Hoffman back five years, to when he'd clashed with her following his order to evacuate everyone but Marcus from Jacinto Maximum.

_Why did I do it? I still don't know._

Victor Hoffman had never shirked a dirty job in his life, and he'd had to do plenty in the last few years that he was less than proud of. But thinking of how he had nearly left Marcus in that deserted prison without even the option of putting a bullet through his brain appalled him in a way that none of his other decisions had. He'd told himself in the years that followed that it was just the emotions that came with having to make a split second decision, that he'd have come to his senses and rescinded the order. But pressure wasn't an excuse that had absolved him of the guilt. Hoffman made split second decisions all the time; it was the nature of his duty to make split second decisions in fact. He couldn't say with one hundred percent certainty whether he'd have rescinded the order or not. And it still plagued him that he couldn't explain why he'd done it, and that he couldn't reconcile the man who had snarled the order with the man that he had thought he was.

_You were right, Lieutenant. I do regret what I nearly allowed to happen to Marcus._

When he'd seen Fenix climb out of that Raven he'd known Lia had been involved in his rescue. Santiago couldn't have known about the order if Lia hadn't told him about it. Hoffman wondered if that was the reason why he had refused her request to be reassigned to Delta Squad. There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other before Lia did a slow head shake.

"I can only tell you how many haven't made it _off_ the operating table in the last nine hours, sir. And there I can only give you an estimate—somewhere in terms of twenty-five percent. And that includes all new traumas and those who've died before we could get to them."

Anya realized Lia had addressed Hoffman as _sir_, not _Colonel_. It was a vast improvement over the normal state of their relationship, which was volatile at best. There was no point in maintaining the private battle that had waged between the two of them for the last five years when humanity was facing a future that was so ambiguous, so in doubt. Anya was wise enough to know that nothing had really been resolved between them.

"And I fully expect that that number will change by sunrise." She sighed and dragged her fingers through her hair. "We just don't have enough hands, enough working equipment or supplies to take care of so many wounded and sick."

There was no point asking about how many of those lives might have been saved had there been a better system in place—better accommodations made available and more medical personnel assigned to help with the influx of mass casualties. Hoffman knew that he wasn't alone in his frustration, either, because Doc Hayman was sure to be spitting nails at this point. Lia turned to look at Anya, her eyes grim and face weary. There was a lot an old war-dog like him could read in the faces of two exhausted, traumatized women.

"Stroud, get back to the CIC truck and relieve Mathieson seeing as how you're not going to sleep. Carmine, you're rostered off. Go get some rest."

"I'm fine, Colonel," Lia said.

"Maintaining proper rest breaks is part of your duties, Lieutenant. Got to keep you operational."

Anya knew that that was Hoffmanese for "I'm worried about you." She found it endearing but didn't think Lia would considering the precariousness of her relationship with Hoffman. But she took it better than Anya expected her too.

"Understood, sir. But I'm needed in the medical—"

"I said _rest_," he snapped. "What's the key thing in any planned emergency situation?"

"Knowing your task and carrying it out, sir."

"Right. You let me worry about tasking more personnel to assist in the treatment center." He paused. "Anya, when you get back to the CIC, see if you can't raise Corporal Baird on the comm and have him head over to help with getting what little medical machinery we brought with us operational."

"Will do, sir," Anya said.

Baird wasn't exactly the most bighearted Gear, but he never could resist any type of mechanical challenge. Humanity was facing a future with even less technological advances at its disposal. Someone like Damon Baird was going to be quite useful in a society that had been forced to leave behind most of the trappings of modern society. Hoffman looked as if he was going to say something else, but he just turned and walked towards the treatment center. Anya wiped her face with the back of her hand. Her skin was starting to sting from the steady barrage of snow.

"We'd better get moving," she said. She shut the hatches and started the engine. "What zone did Alpha-7 get assigned too?"

"I don't know," Lia leaned back in her seat and gathered her thoughts while the emotions bulleted around inside her. Her ears were ringing. Or maybe it was her heart slapping against her ribcage like a fist on metal plating. "Soon as our Raven landed I was marshaled to the treatment center."

"Mathieson has the roster sheet."

Anya steered the 'Dill out of the line, keeping to the vehicle land marked in the grass by reflective cones. She kept an eye out for stray pedestrians.

"Just drop me at Checkpoint 10," Lia let out a little breath, drew one in. "I want to take a look at the medical tents being set up in the civilian sectors. Get a list together of the supplies they need as well as the status of the equipment they have available."

"How long since you saw him, Lia?"

"Couple of days," she slanted a look at Anya. "Why are you asking?"

"Because I'm thinking that you want to see him more than you are willing to admit right now," she shook her head to stop the heated denial she saw forming in Lia's eyes. "And that you're more shaken up than you want to admit and needing him more than you anticipated. You want to check out the medical tents being set up, that's fine. But don't tell me that Hoffman wanting Baird to help out at the treatment center isn't what has you freaking out at the moment."

"I'm a bit—unsettled—right now, sure," she admitted after a few moments of silence. "But who wouldn't be? Our whole way of life just got sunk beneath a gazillion gallons of water. Who isn't a bit unsettled right now?"

_And who doesn't want the safety and comfort of their husbands or wives at this moment? _But she kept that thought to herself. Anya was already working up to a splendid argument, she didn't need her adding any fuel to it.

"Are you unsettled about seeing Baird? Or is that you're afraid you can't keep a lid on everything as easily as you have been the last few years?"

"Yes. No. Shit, I don't know anymore." At Anya's sympathetic nod, she sighed. "I've got all these feelings boiling inside of me and I don't know what to do with them, how to control them. And I know that I gotta get my head clear before I see Damon lest I throw myself into his arms and cry like every other wife who has found out their husband is alive."

"Let me ask you one straight question. What was the first thing you felt after you evacuated the Hollow?"

"Fear." Lia's stomach turned itself into knots even now. "I didn't know if he'd made it out of the Hollow; if he was alright, if I'd get to see him once we reached Port Farrall."

Anya nodded sympathetically. "And I bet you looked in every open bay that you passed—aching for either a glimpse of that blond hair or the sound of his voice to let you know he was alright. And I bet that you thought about all those things you never got to say to him and promised yourself that you'd say them once you saw him again."

"I felt the same way about Marcus and Dom and you, but I get your point." Lia forced a smile. "We make a hell of a team, you know that?"

"We girls got to stick together."

Anya brought the 'Dill to a halt at the outskirts of Checkpoint 10. "Lia, forget about checking on the medical tents and go find Baird. Take some time for you and settle the fear by making sure for yourself that your husband is alive," she turned to look at her. "It's time that you guys come out into the open and prove that enlisted Gears and officers can make a marriage work and not have it affect their job performances anyway." She paused for half a second. "Not that there is anybody left in command who will really protest that an enlisted Gear is married to an Officer…"

"Damon's been using that piece of logic for the last couple of years," Lia said as she jumped out. "I just don't know if our civilization is ready for such a bombshell. I'll see how I feel once I get my head straight. Could be that you and Damon are right and that nobody will give a shit."

Anya watched as Lia disappeared into the darkness. Finally she turned the 'Dill around and slowly drove back to the CIC.


	3. Checkpoint 10

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything in the GOW universe and I don't profit from this story except for the pleasure that it gives me —sadly heh. Reviews are always welcomed!

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><p><strong>Checkpoint 10<strong>

The world had gone white. And bitter, bitter cold. It chilled to the bone, could kill if you stayed still for a second too long. It would slow any Locust that still traversed the surviving sections of their vast tunnels, and offer Jacinto's remnants time to regroup and recover. Yes, the bitter white cold was an unlikely blessing. Lia's spirits were low, her body nearly done in by fatigue. But she could not, would not yield to the oblivion of sleep. Not until she had managed to find out how Dom was holding up. The never-ending stretch of patients demanding her attention had numbed her mind so that she'd no longer seen the blood staining the floor. Or smelled the stench of death. She'd lost track of how many hours she had spent in the field medical tents. Hours, days, weeks. But she did not weep. The tears, a woman's tears for the family and friends that had been lost, were petrified inside her. She had seen more death than someone twice her age. She was numb to its cruelty, to its awful truth. And that, more than anything else, made her the saddest.

She circled around a boulder and began making her way back towards the CIC. Not only did she want to ask Anya about where Delta was rostered off, she also wanted to update the days end death toll. One hundred and sixty-five had been the final count. Lia hoped that the number would be much smaller in the coming weeks. But the winter was bitter and proper accommodations short in supply, even with the engineers working round the clock to bring the most inhabitable parts of Port Farrall up to some type of standard. It was all about time-it had always been about time in fact- which had been in limited supply in the end. A different season and this evacuation would have gone so much more smoothly.

They could have made repairs to the buildings without fear of anybody freezing to death. They could have grown crops, rounded up some of the wild livestock that had not been slaughtered by the Locust and laid in other provisions and supplies in which to see them through the longest stretch of Frost. Shit, the snow was falling more heavily now. The wind had kicked up to a soft gale. They were in for a blizzard. Her nerves, already stretched taut with tension, frayed just a bit more. A blizzard was the very last thing that their camp was prepared for. She would have to warn Doctor Hayman. Lia turned to head back towards the treatment center but her glance toward an outcropping of disjointed rock formations turned her dark scowl into one of keen speculation.

The man who crouched there with a Lancer cradled in his arms and a finger pressed to his ear hadn't changed much since she'd seen him last. He'd added muscle here, fined down there. His hair was still as black as that damn do-rag he favored. His eyes would still be the same oddly colored shade of blue. She turned and circled back towards him, a genuine smile curving her lips for the first time in hours. Marcus Fenix got to his feet and stared out into the snow, cradling his Lancer. Despite the noise from the camp- 'Dill and Centaur motors, generators, the murmur of thousands of voices, occasional shouts and instructions- it was quieter than anywhere he'd been in years. Even as he started walking, he heard the sound of boots crunching snow. It could have been a dozen different women, crossing the parameter towards him. But he _knew_. As his heart stumbled in his chest, he stepped around the boulder he had been crouched behind and saw her just as she made the last turn.

And that look, that one look, sliced him deeper than any Lancer blade could.

She'd always been one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever known. And the long years of sleepless nights and endless turmoil had done nothing to diminish that beauty. Her hair was still a long tumble of flaming curls around a face of rose and cream. That skin, he knew, was as soft and smooth as silk. Her nose was small and straight, her mouth wide and full. And he remembered, perfectly remembered the texture and flavor. Her eyes were smoke-gray, almond-shaped, and watched him now with just a hint of sorrow darkening their depths.

"Lilia," Marcus felt like he was twenty all over again.

And just returning home from Aspho with an agonizing secret tearing him apart inside. She smiled, and that, too, was sad, as she came towards him.

"You are the only one who still calls me Lilia. Even Dom calls me Lia now."

She moved to his side and matched his pace with ease, as if they had planned this patrol. She didn't ask how he was, if he was all right; she knew he wouldn't say whether he was or wasn't. Not that it needed saying or asking anyway. She knew him well enough to know he was hurting. But who wasn't?

"How is Dom by the way?"

Her voice was deeper, just a few degrees deeper than he remembered. Smokier, sultrier. It seemed to wind its way into his belly, like the first shot of properly aged whiskey, and spread comfort and warmth throughout his entire body.

"Doing as well as can be expected," Marcus said calmly.

But she knew he was anything but calm. She slipped her arm through his and told herself that it was what _normal _people- especially those who had known each other for as long as they had- would do in this climate. She almost wept at the novelty of it. It was going to take time for life to return to some semblance of normal... if such a thing was even possible.

"Just going to take time," she said. "And right now, time is about the only thing that we might have in abundance."

"I know." Marcus paused.

He'd always been self-contained, but she saw accumulated years of grief in his eyes. This was the Marcus that she'd seen after Aspho, the one who'd returned home tormented by the death of his best friend and not known what to do with his grief, or how to cope with his loss. She angled her head to look at him. Oh yea, he still didn't know what to do with his grief or how to cope with loss. And that thick, icy reserve he'd cultivated was firmly in place. But Lia knew that there was a man underneath that shield that keenly felt for the people that he loved—that he risked his life to protect. Chipping away that shield and undoing thirty-plus years of emotional damage was going to take more than a day, a week or even a year. And it was going to take a collective effort from all of them, _him_ most especially.

"Marcus, we're going to get through this, I promise," she slipped her hand through his and gently squeezed his fingers. "And-" Lia let the sentence hang when a Centaur backfired in the distance and shattered the stillness of the night. "Shit, I haven't managed to get adjusted to how quiet this place is."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Even prison was louder than this place."

"I wrote to you."

She felt the muscles of his arm bunch against hers but damn it, she wanted him to know-to understand- that she hadn't forgotten about him. That she hadn't given up on him as so many other people had.

"But considering the assholes that were in charge of the Slab, and the asshole that helped to put you there in the first place, I'm sure you didn't see any of my letters. But I wrote. Twice a week. For the entire four years."

Marcus stopped to sight up on something. The snow was falling less heavily now; the wind was down to only an occasional blow. But Lia knew that it was only the eye of the storm. They were in for a blizzard; she could feel it in her bones.

"Dom said he wrote, too. And so did Anya. But I only got a couple of letters while I was in there. The Slab's lousy at guest relations."

Lia wanted to tell him that he didn't need to continue putting up this act with her, they knew more about each other than most friends did, but she suspected that everything that had happened to him over the last few years had played a hand in carving the face that he showed the world.

"Did Dom tell you about the fight that Hoffman and I got into when the order was given for all prisoners but you to be freed from Jacinto Max?"

She tossed back her hair. There were ruby stones at her ears. He had given them to her for her eighteenth birthday. The details of her, down to the simple silver band she wore on her thumb, the subtle scent that surrounded her, etched themselves in his mind and made him remember things that he would have preferred remain forgotten.

"Lilia," he said softly. "I told you to not do anything stupid."

"You shouldn't have been sent to that hellhole in the first place." It stung to have her look at him, those dove-gray eyes staring into his and seeing more than they should. "And you shouldn't have been left there to die simply because Hoffman had a grudge against your father."

Seeing her again had stirred up all the memories inside him, churning them with fresh spurts of longing, need. Love. He loved her in a way that was more affectionate, more protective than it was anything else. And that had been another root, one of the many tangled roots, of the problem. There had been too much between them, too much _of _them for there to be anything less than what there was between them now. She, like Dom, had risked everything - her rank, her career, her reputation- for him.

"Lilia…"

"Don't you dare," she'd said it softly, but there was an edge of steel to the words that he knew all too well. "Don't you dare tell me that you weren't worth fighting for."

And because she wanted to, because she needed to, she reached up to brush her fingers down the puckered skin of his right cheek. She knew how much open affection bothered him, but she didn't care. The war had taught her a hard lesson about telling the people that you loved that you loved them every chance you could. There were never any guarantees that there would be a tomorrow.

"I see you've gotten a few new ones since I saw you last."

Marcus closed his eyes, more a long blink than anything else. Only she would dare to touch him. Only she could.

"And here I was thinking that I was just so pretty."

Yeah, his scars were deeper than simple cuts made in flesh. His scars were hidden where nobody could see them, not unless they knew him and knew how to tell just how badly he had been hurt.

"One day, you are going to have to talk about it. _All _of it. You'll never get beyond any of those events if you don't."

"Maybe that's how I choose to deal with all of those events."

It wasn't a growl. Marcus just sounded exhausted.

"Marcus," she said, "even _you _have a breaking point." Her fingers skimmed over his cheek one more time before she stepped back. "You are not a machine, no matter how much you try to act like one."

Marcus's jaw muscles twitched, a clear sign at just how tight a rein he had over himself at that moment.

"Better hope that I never reach that breaking point."

"You will," she said, her heart and soul aching for him. "And Dom, and Anya and I will be there to catch you when you fall. Just as you've been there to catch us. And we'll help you to put it all back together again. That's what families do, Marcus."

Marcus made a faint rumbling sound in his throat, as if he was getting ready to tell her to shut the fuck up, but he cut it short and nodded. If anything, he just looked overwhelmed. Marcus had been raised in a house of silence, where emotions had been kept in small jars wrapped with chains, so he didn't know where exactly to start. Or how. But they would show him. They turned back to camp, following a wide arc. The temperature was falling fast now. The snow was turning rock hard and the sounds it made had changed drastically.

"We need to get back to base Marcus," Lia strained to listen. "We're in for a blizzard and don't want to get caught out here if it hits."

"Shit." Marcus held up a hand to halt her. "Hear that?"

Lia had to hold her breath to hear it. She thought it was the wind at first, a distant wailing noise, and then it suddenly became the only ambient sound that she could hear. Her brain focused on it and nothing else. There were some sounds that became so deeply embedded in the memory that you never forgot them, and Lia wanted this to be just her mind misinterpreting everything and fitting it into familiar patterns. But she knew that wasn't going to be the case.

"Shit." That was Marcus again. "Kantus."

The sound resolved into a steady, monotonous droning. It made the hair on the back of her neck twitch. _Kantus. _And where there were Kantus, there were Locust ready to attack. Kantus were the bugle blowers of the Locust Horde. They rallied the grubs, even the badly wounded ones. The sound of a Kantus drone made the Locust fighting mad again. _Definitely beyond shit._ Lia thought.

"Lilia, get the hell back to camp." Marcus pressed his radio earpiece. "Fenix to Control, enemy contact, five klicks southeast of camp. Can hear a Kantus. Going to engage."

"Roger that, Fenix," Mathieson said. "You're not rostered on patrol. Are you alone?"

"No, Sergeant Fenix is not alone, Mathieson," Lia kept her voice low, spoke slowly while looking directly into Marcus' eyes. She was furious with him for even having suggested she leave him and return to camp. "I'm here with him. Get Stratton on the comm and tell him to get Alpha-7 out here for the assist."

Marcus wanted to strangle her at that moment. Stubborn, prideful, ridiculously loyal woman, he thought, then sighed. The fact that she was that had always been part of what he had admired most about her. Pride and tenacity were hard not to admire. And unless he missed his guess, she had more of both now than she had at sixteen.

"Lieutenant Carmine?" Mathieson asked. He hissed out a breath. "Colonel Hoffman is not going to be pleased-"

"Yes, well, you can tell Colonel Hoffman that what I do when I'm rostered off is my own goddamn business."

"Roger that Lieutenant."

Mathieson was fully aware that the relationship between Colonel Hoffman and Lieutenant Carmine had been irrevocably damaged after Sergeant Fenix had been sent to Jacinto Maximum. And he had no intention whatsoever of being the stick stuck in the middle of that blaze.

"Alpha and Delta are en route now and I'm tasking fire support and a KR to shed some light on those grubs. Try not to hog all the fun out there you two."

Stragglers had been inevitable. There was no way that every Locust could have been wiped out. Their tunnels and caverns had been too extensive, had run to deep and far for complete annihilation to have been possible. And right now, Lia had unfinished business that drowning the grub bastards hadn't resolved.

"So," she said. "What's the plan? Wait here until reinforcement arrives, or go in and give them a special welcome to the party present?"

"How about you get your ass back to camp." Marcus countered with a slow shake of his head. "You're a Doctor. You belong at the Med unit and not out here in the field."

"I am also a fully trained Gear." Lia touched Marcus's arm. "I lost four brothers in this war. _Four_. So don't tell me that I don't have a right to be here. I have every right and just as much reason. And don't tell me to run away and leave you here to hold them off. I just can't do that. I _won_'_t_. You taught me about what it meant to be a Gear, don't expect me to forget that now."

It was just the beginning. It was only the first step. Losing one brother was hard enough. But she had lost _four _damn it. Her hand closed around his. Marcus heard the hitch in her voice. But nothing showed on her face but a bone deep weariness that he understood all too well. She had humbled him, Marcus thought as he turned to stare out into the darkness. The pretty steel-eyed red head who'd been sweetly understanding, then gently supportive, and openly vulnerable all in the span of ten minutes had managed to open pockets and doors inside him that he thought had been welded shut. He had known she had lost two brothers- Anthony and Benjamin had both been members of Delta Squad- but he hadn't known she had lost all four. _Aw shit_. He stepped away, clenched his hands around the Lancer he held.

"Alright." He said finally. He reached behind him for the Gnasher rifle he had slung across his back and passed it to her before he started wading through the ankle-deep snow. "But any order that I give, I expect you to follow. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

Lia felt a switch flip on somewhere inside her, and she wanted the chaos, needed the destruction, some vent for the emotions that she kept locked deep inside. She was following a few steps behind Marcus when she heard the Raven approaching. It swooped low overhead and the brilliant blue-white searchlights lit the field up almost as bright as daylight. Lia saw movement behind the trees. Shit, it was a mixed bag of Locust- two dozen regular drones, a handful of snipers and grenadiers, a couple Theron sentinels and two Grinders. And at least one Kantus that they could hear.

Marcus sighed. "Ah, shit…."

"Hey, maybe they're coming to apologize..."

Marcus slanted her a look that said he didn't find her joke funny. Lia shrugged and dropped behind the nearest cover, took aim, and waited. The gnasher wasn't going to be much help from this distance, but it felt good to hold the weapon all the same. On open ground, the motley band of Locust looked more grotesque than terrifying, but if they got loose inside the camp- of which there was no solid buildings for protection and masses of civilians who were already scared out of their wits- the pandemonium alone could cost lots of lives. And that was in addition to what damage the grubs would inflict upon what little resources they had managed to escape Jacinto with.

"Marcus, how many Locust do you think were in the Nexus when we flooded it?"

"Had to be hundreds of thousands in the Nexus alone," Marcus said. "Looks like we've got about forty or fifty of them coming our way at the moment."

Lia centered her sights on one of the sentinels. "I don't like that number," she smiled now, thin as a blade. "How's zero sound to you?"


	4. Grub Party

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything in the GOW universe and I don't profit from this story except for the pleasure that it gives me —sadly heh. Reviews are always welcomed!

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWO<strong>

_ARMADILLO PERSONNEL CARRIER PA-870, RESPONDING._

The comms link crackled in Dominic Santiago's earpiece. "Delta-One, Alpha-Seven- this is Control. Delta-Two and Bravo are heading your way."

"Roger that, Control."

_Oh shit, I did it. _

_I killed Maria. _

_I killed _my _fucking wife. _

Dom could hear the chatter between the other APCs as they raced for the contact point, but it was just noise, words, sounds without meaning. His body was carrying on without him; he was responding to his brains stimuli, but whatever instincts that had held him together during that final run into the Hollow had long since worn off. He felt like he was being consumed by a horror that was slowly driving every thought from his mind, but, for those final few moments that he had spent with his wife.

_I had ten fucking years in which to save her and I ended up killing her. _

Dom knew internally that he could have done nothing to save Maria. But there was a fine line between _knowing _and _believing_, and his brain was not much for being influenced by simple fact at that point. Dom tried- he really did- to fix a memory of the Maria that he most wanted to remember. Beautiful, full of life, happy. That was the Maria he _knew_ he had to remember. Not the tortured and scarred skeleton that he had found barely clinging to life in that Locust detention center. That was how he'd been trained after all. When a commando was in the worst shit possible, he had to be able to think his way out of it- to concentrate on survival, tell himself that he was going to be okay, believe that he could make it, and ignore that nagging little voice that told him he was never going to get out of this shit alive.

_So why can't I see anything else?_

It was always the same scene that he visualized; placing the muzzle of his sidearm to her temple as he lowered her to the ground. Kissing her one last time. Telling her he was sorry, that he loved her so much. He shut his eyes. But the memory didn't go away. The images superimposed themselves over everything he tried to think about. His hands began to shake and he grabbed his Lancer just to keep them steady. All he wanted was oblivion- five fucking minutes of _nothing _in his head so that he could pull himself back together.

This was worse than that night aboard the _Pomeroy_, where he'd learned that Carlos had been killed, that he had lost half his buddies, and that he had had a daughter all at the same time- a terrible mixture of tragedy and triumph, unbearable pain and happiness, so disabling and encompassing that he hadn't been sure just how he would get through it. All the time he spent fighting- to stay alive, to rid the world of the Locust, to get revenge for those comrades that had fallen- he had been able to cope. But now that the fighting was over, now that the war was all but won, the tidal wave of pain and loss had come flooding back. The Locust was all but gone, for the most part. The world could start over, begin anew, be made stronger than what it had been before. But Maria was gone now too. More gone than she'd been the ten years she'd been missing and he was the one who'd caused it.

_Oh God… how am I supposed to go on? _

"Delta-One, KR-Eighty here, you have more Locust activity coming at you." That sounded like Gettner. "Looks to be from the northern perimeter."

"KR-Eighty, this is Delta-One. We get them to a clearing, can you target them for us?" That was Marcus.

"Delta-One, what clearing?" Gettner said. "Or would you like me to _make _one just for you?"

"Can you see anything at all from up there, Gettner?"

"Not enough to be certain that I won't blow our guys to bits, too, Fenix."

His life, what it had once been, was preserved on a set of glossy photographs that he carried always in his shirt pocket; his parents and Carlos; Maria; Benedicto and Sylvia; faces from his commando unit; friends from over the years. There was only one person in those pictures who was still alive now. If Dom was honest with himself, he would admit that he had started grieving for Maria- the Maria that he knew and loved, when the kids had died. Whatever it was that was happening inside his head now was not the clean, normal, _predictable _grief that that therapist had told him about. This was full of all kinds of other shit and debris, like the snow that was outside the APC. It wasn't as white as it seemed. It wasn't as _orderly _as it was supposed to be.

"Hey-" Bernie put her hand on Dom's shoulder. And felt the tremors that were racking his body. "You sure you're up for this?" In the dim light of the hatch, she could see him nod.

But he looked _wrong_, as if his mind was anywhere but in the present. _Poor sod. _All of them; the entire human species-the tiny remnant that had managed to survive- suffered from some form of bereavement. There was no longer something for them to live for, a common threat for them to fight, which meant that they had nothing to distract them from their grief. Bernie found that it was a lot easier to forget about her own traumatic events when she was taking care of Dom.

"You sure? You know that nobody here is going to fault you if you want to stay in the APC."

"I'm sure, Bernie."

Dom had felt like he had had things buttoned down all the time that he was in the Hollow, but now that the worst of the storm had passed, everything was starting to come apart again. He didn't know what he was going to be like from one minute to the next. _Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance_. Dom could repeat the five stages without blinking. The doctor that had counseled Maria after the kids died had made each stage sound like some pit stop on the road back to _Normal Life_. But she had never explained that he could experience several stages all at once- or that it could feel like he was on an emotional roller coaster- switching between two or more of the stages, racing around others and doing loopy loops through the rest. It was just the beginning though. The grief wasn't going to go away overnight. He didn't think it ever would.

_Oh God, I just want to die. _

_I just want to _fucking _die_.

"Shit, they've started without us," Baird said, finger pressed to one ear as he listened to the comms chatter. "Hey Cole, you see that muzzle flash? It's one big party down there. A little grub for everybody who shows up."

"It'll be over by the time we arrive."

Cole didn't think Boomer Lady was joking. She had her mad face on. But who didn't have something to be angry about though? The grubs had messed a lot of people's lives up. But Cole had a feeling that Boomer Lady was mad about more than just what the grubs had done to her unit. But he didn't ask. He would, when the time was right.

"But there will be other opportunities in the future, I am sure."

"I promise to save an ugly one for you, Granny."

"That's my boy. I'll remember to say something extra nice about you in my memoirs."

"What about me," Cole said with a quick grin over his shoulder. "You going to say something extra nice about me in your memoirs, Boomer Lady?"

"You get an entire chapter dedicated to you sweetheart."

There was something not right about Bernie's voice. Her mind was on something else. But he didn't ask. Now wasn't the right time to dredge up bad memories. _Maybe it would never be the right time._

"_Jace_!" exploded Lieutenant Carmine's voice in Cole's earpiece. "Get the hell out of there!"

"More than ready to do that, Lia," came Stratton's reply. There was the roar of a chainsaw, followed by a grunt. "Can you guys get me some cover fire?"

It was Marcus that answered. "Sigma- fire position, _there_, now! Alpha-3, _there_. And where is that fucking Kantus? Someone find that god damn thing and shut it up!"

"Hey, looks like Red decided to join the party." Baird rummaged in a locker. Cole caught a glimpse of a Lancer as he focused on the driver's periscope. "Granny, it must warm your heart to know that all that specialty training you gave her won't be going to waste. As long as Red can remember which end of the big rifle she's supposed to use on the grubs, that is."

_'Lia?' _And hearing her voice, Dom was jerked back to the real world; the one where people depended on him, where friends had put their asses on the line _for him_. And at the head of that list were Marcus and Lia. There was no giving up now. There was no going back.

_Yeah, this is why I'm still alive. _

_This is what I'm meant to do. _

_I get it now. _

"You go and say that to Lieutenant Carmine, Blondie." Baird never really grinned. He just had this _smirk_-there was no other word for it really- that got on the nerves of a lot of people. Her most especially. "And I'll be standing by with a chunk of snow that you can use on the black eye you'll be sporting."

"Now don't go and get your panties twisted in a bunch." The smirk got broader as Cole drove the 'Dill down the parking lane. "I _like _Red. She isn't ugly like that female doctor in G Sector medical station and manages to smell like something other than disinfectant."

"That's harsh Blondie. True, but harsh."

Baird checked the safety and ammo clip of the Lancer, then powered up. The short burst of chainsaw noise in the small hatch space made Cole flinch.

"Have you seen Dr. Bansel? As ugly as a Berkserker on a good day. Smells like one too."

"You get a hole shot in your arse and you'll be glad to see Dr. Bansel," Bernie pointed out matter-of-fact.

"Or I could be smart, and go find Lia, who is the best doctor we have in the Coalition. She patches you up and you leave the hospital feeling better, not worse."

"Damon," Cole said with a big, booming laugh. "You've been trying to get Lieutenant Carmine to go on a date with you for the last five years. What makes you think she going to say yes now?"

"You just know that shit is going to change." Baird paused. "Come on Cole, you know that now the fighting's stopped that Prescott is going to make repopulation a top priority. And for that to happen, he's going to have to bend some of the rules."

In the light, his face had an odd look, almost as if there was something more that he wanted to say, but didn't dare. Dom shrugged it off. There was a weird mood going around, that impossible state between finding that everything was changed and nothing was ever going to be the same again. People made dumb mistakes when they felt like that, but it was slowly starting to sink in that the grubs were all but gone and that humans could once again find peace, even if that peace came at the expense of change. Allowances had to be made. Rules had to be tailored to fit into the here and now of today.

"Now I know that's right baby," Cole said. "But that don't mean you are going to get Lieutenant Carmine to go on a date with you. She's a classy lady."

"Hadn't realized that you were ready to settle down into domesticated life, Blondie." Bernie studied Baird from beneath lowered lashes. There was something not right, something more that he wasn't divulging. But what it was, Bernie couldn't figure out. "Can't think of something better to do with your time?"

Baird shrugged. "Settling down just sounds real good after all the bullshit we've gone through. There is no going back to how things used to be. Life is changed. But there is one thing that we all crave- normalcy. Wife, kids, house with the white picket fence. Yanno, the typical bullshit."

"Might be sounding a bit old-fashioned here, Blondie, but I think you have to get the girl to go on a date with you, and fall in love with you before you can talk marriage and babies."

"Yeah, well," Baird rummaged through his pouches and fished out a cloth that he used to wipe the Lancer with. "Lia and I have history. _Personal _history. And I'm not saying I _want _to settle down with her. I'm just speaking in general terms." Baird's expression relaxed into a kind of intense concentration, almost like a sense of doubt. He straightened in his seat and went on wiping down the Lancer. "Life has changed and Prescott is going to have to adapt to those changes if he wants to ensure the survival of the human race."

When he wasn't being mouthy or smug, he could say things that brought them all up short. And he was right Bernie realized. Life had changed for all of them. The rules that had been established might have worked five or even ten years ago, but they couldn't be applied to the here and now. Survival depended upon new life being created. And peace was a territory that none of them knew a thing about.

The COG had been at war for longer than any of them had been alive. It was natural that they would be unsure about what to do next. About what tomorrow would bring. And to think about the survival of their own genetic line. The 'Dill bounced over the rough ground. Cole brought it to a halt next to five other APC's-none of which had their full armor plating- to provide extra cover.

"End of the line, ladies. Check you got all your belongings with you before you disembark from this train."

Another squad was already laying down fire to the left, and when Dom followed their aim, he could see that Marcus and Lia had taken cover behind a large set of boulders and were spraying fire of their own. _Shit, Lia doesn't even have full plates on. What's she thinking? _They were in a meadow on the southeastern side of the camp, running perpendicular to one of the many roads that led back to Jacinto.

Even now refugees were still pouring into camp. And had heard that the grubs were back in town, judging by the amount of screaming. Shit, the last thing any of them needed was for there to be a stampede and civilians running around everywhere. They had nowhere to hide. But there was no point in telling them to leave the grubs to the Gears and for them to make their ways on into the encampment. Civvies knew that when the grubs were around the corner, so was death.

"Blondie, you get that Lancer to the Lieutenant," Bernie gestured to Cole and Dom. "You two get him some cover fire. And get down there to offer back-up to Marcus and Lia when you can. Okay?"

"What about you Boomer Lady?" Cole asked. "What are you going to do?"

"You heard Marcus. Someone needs to go and shut that Kantus up."

Bernie smiled at him and jogged away in the direction of the firefight. Baird shoved Cole in the back.

"Hey, come on, Cole. Don't worry about Granny. She's in her element. She's got all those sniper skills, remember?"

It looked like every Gear had shown up to converge on the Locust. It was almost total overkill at this point; relief and a certainty that they were finally seeing the last of the grubs. But there were many who still had a lot of pent up shit that they needed to get out first. Everybody had had their lives changed after E-day. And everyone had a reason for wanting to make the Locust pay. Cole could hear a Raven heading his way.

But he had some unfinished business of his own to take care of, first.

He focused on a wounded Cyclops trying to reload- you just had to be faster than the Cole Train baby- and ran at it, firing short bursts from the Lancer. Marcus was somewhere nearby, yelling at someone.

"Stop wasting ammo!" Marcus didn't yell much, but when he did, you could hear him clear on the other side of Jacinto. "Shit, _save your fucking ammo!_"

There was a loud _thwack_ and a Grenadier exploded.

"But you didn't say anything about wasting _their _ammo," Lia retorted with a smirk.

"Smart ass." Marcus primed a frag grenade and prepared to swing it by its chain. "Do you think that you can get that Kantus with the Torq…. Aw, _shit_."

The grenade bounced off the top of a Grinder's helmet and spun clear. Two seconds later, it exploded, taking out a Theron Sentinel that had unwittingly stepped on it. A second after that the Grinder was missing his head. Marcus turned to look at Lia, blinking his eyes rapidly. Lia calmly reloaded the bow before she arched an eyebrow at him.

"You look a bit surprised. Can't believe that I still possess the skills necessary to qualify as sniper?"

Marcus shook his head. He rarely smiled, but she swore that there was a slight softening of his features.

"I know you have to re-qualify every year, Lilia."

"Yes, I do." A drone came crashing through the trees in their direction. "Guess that one must not have learned how to walk softly while carrying his big stick."

"Doesn't look like it." Marcus cut him down with a burst of fire. "Baird says you were assigned to his team during Hollow Storm." He tossed a look at her from over his shoulder and saw her frown. "What were you doing out in the field?"

"Leave it to the Baird broadcasting service."

Lia bobbed up from cover and took out another drone. She knew Marcus wasn't going to let this go, and there was no point in arguing about it. Fruitless battles wasted energy. She intended to conserve hers for when it mattered most. _Such as when I'm kicking my husband's ass for sayin' shit he knows he isn't supposed too!_

"I did not hide anything from you or Dom. And I did not take the decision to return to field duty lightly." She blew a few stray wisps of hair from her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was hoarse and more shaky than she would have liked. "I went because I had too. Because I was asked too."

"By who?"

"Jaila."

Marcus angled his head to look down at her. "Your sister-in-law?"

Lia nodded. Marcus had always had a prodigious memory. Which was why she had to tread carefully.

"Why would she ask you to go back in the field?"

"Because Clay was part of Bravo-Three." She leaned up and sent an arrow at a charging Boomer.

Timing, she knew, was going to be essential. She had things she had to say to him, but with Marcus, you broached things gently. She met his gaze levelly.

"Clay, along with the rest of his team, was being ferried by KR-Five-Four when it was shot down somewhere over Ilima City."

_'Shit,' _was the only thing that Marcus could think. She had lost two brothers that day, within hours of the other. He shook his head and sent fire at a group of grubs trying to rush at them, cutting them down before he said, "Lilia-"

"Don't say it, Marcus. I knew it was a fool's quest when I told her I would go. But how could I say no?"

"You should have asked me." Marcus reloaded and made sure that a Boomer had fired its last boomshot round. "I would have retrieved his COG for you."

Just as he'd retrieved Anthony's and Benjamin's.

"I know you would have."

Her fingers were gentle as they brushed his arm. She didn't tell him that she'd asked Hoffman to deploy her with him and that Hoffman had refused. That was best saved for a time when they weren't fighting for their lives.

"But this one was mine to retrieve. He was my twin-my second half. And I had to have that closure to be able to resolve that hole that is now left inside me."

Marcus didn't understand the connection that was between twins, but he did know about the need for closure. He paused to listen, the droning from the Kantus was still going strong, but it seemed to be coming from two different directions now.

"_Shit_. I think there are two of them."

"Two? Two _Kantus _you mean?"

Lia frowned as she set the torque bow on the ground and picked up the gnasher. The droning just sounded like plain static noise to her- weird and irritating. But it was definitely reverberating.

"Someone needs to shut them up or else we will never get these things to stop coming."

Another explosion went off a few meters away, deafening them and knocking Lia off balance. Marcus just caught her against him.

"Man, you two okay?" Cole thudded down next to them. Lia could hear via her earpiece, but every other sound- save for the droning of the Kantus, which seemed to be the only sound that she could hear clearly-was muffled, her hearing, and she assumed Marcus' as well, having been pummeled by the noise.

"Where Baird get to? Boomer Lady told him to get a Lancer to Lieutenant Carmine."

"On your left," Baird was panting. "And it's-_shit_! Shit, shit, shit- man, that's it! Fucking bastards! I lost the frigging Lancer!"

"Glad you two could join the party." Marcus lobbed a grenade between the trees, clear of any squads, and the explosion brought two seconds for them all to find new cover. Lia dropped behind the shattered stump of a tree and found herself nose to nose with her husband.

"Okay, Red," Baird passed her a Longshot. Grubs were not the only ones who could loot from their victims. "Which end of the big rifle do you use to pop a grubs head?"

"The same end that you can stick up their ass." She angled her head, looked at him. Drank in the sight of him and tried to not drown in the relief. "Either way, they are going to have a really shitty day."

"That's my girl." Baird said before he leaned out and sent a burst of fire at a Mauler. Lia got in a headshot while it was struggling.

"Damon-"

"Don't even have to say it, Red," he managed a cocky smile.

But looking at her hurt worse than anything he'd ever felt before. One deep, throbbing ache centered in the pit of his stomach, one slow, twisting twinge in his heart.

"I know you're happy to see me."

He leaned around the trunk and sent a burst of fire at a charging drone. It dropped the thing, but it didn't kill it. It just lay bleeding and screaming as its buddies carried on around it. Lia emptied the rest of her pistols clip in it. She wasn't sure if she was doing it to make sure that the thing couldn't get up again, or if she was doing the humane thing her heart said to do and ending its misery.

Baird swore, long and viciously. "Damn it, they just won't stop coming!"

Cole dropped down behind them but not before emptying the last of his clip into another drone. "Aw, you know you love it, Damon!"

"No, actually, I _really _don't!"

The battle was running in bursts. Every time Cole dropped behind cover and looked up again, the grubs were somewhere else, waiting, then they were charging in. They were pushing the Gears deeper towards the forest. Every time they fell back a few meters, another horde appeared to push them closer. And every few meters forward they were pushed, another mine detonated. Marcus dropped down next to Baird.

"This is more than a frigging skirmish."

"You said it, Baird."

Cole couldn't see Dom. He could hear him, but he couldn't see him. Baird knelt back on his heels, almost as if he could sense what Cole was thinking and jumped up to find him. That wasn't like Baird at all so you just knew he was freaked out. Lia jumped up and grabbed his arm.

"Damon-!"

"Damon, baby," Cole yelled. "You alright?"

"Lia, watch out!"

Without hesitating, Baird caught her around the waist and fell, dragging her beneath him. Lia heard the familiar _thwack _of a torque arrow as it skimmed over their heads. The arrow found purchase in a thick tree branch and exploded, showering them in bits of bark.

"You alright?" His breath ragged, he buried his face in her hair. And struggled to quell the fear that wracked his body with tremors.

"I'm fine." She gave his shoulder a little nudge. "Damon-" she murmured, but whatever she was about to say came out as a gurgled gasp.

Baird followed her gaze and felt as if he'd been plunged straight into the middle of a nightmare. Dom was there, and he was in trouble. Serious trouble. A couple dozen drones sprayed the boulder that he was crouched behind with gunfire. But it was the Bloodmount that burst from the trees and was tearing its way up the field that was the major problem. Bloodmounts were nasty creatures even by the grubs standard. They ate humans whenever they got a chance. And went berserk if they lost their rider. His rider had to know that neither he, nor his ugly pony, stood a chance of surviving, what with a whole slew of Gears gunning for him, but he kept on coming, as if he had a chance of surviving and doing some damage.

"_Shit_…" was the only thing he could say.


	5. The Brink

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything in the GOW universe and I don't profit from this story except for the pleasure that it gives me —sadly heh. Reviews are always welcomed!

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><p>Time- it could have been a minute, five, or twenty. All Dom knew was that he was in deep shit. <em>Seriously<em> deep shit, in fact. He had been caught in an ambush, alone, with a Bloodmount tearing up the field towards him. He could hear the helicopters overhead, but he knew that he couldn't call for support because the forest canopy was too thick for them to be able to confirm targets. A mine detonated close to him, deafening him for a few moments. He felt something pierce his arm and neck. When he laid his hand on his arm, his fingers came back sticky with blood and bits of dirt. In that moment he knew that he was going to die. He was trapped. He had nowhere to run, to hide. Not even Marcus could save him at this point in time. Suddenly, he just couldn't seem to care.

_After what I did to Maria, I don't deserve to live._

But he was going to take as many grubs with him as he could, first. Dom charged at the nearest Drone, firing his Lancer with precision and determination, and had the satisfaction of seeing its mangled body fall to the ground. His life was totally clear right at that moment; he saw everything and understood _why_, perfectly. He knew what he had to do, he knew what he was going to do, and wasn't thinking or worrying about how he was going to feel tomorrow.

There wasn't going to be any more tomorrows.

The Bloodmount was rapidly closing the gap between them. Dom could hear the snap of its teeth. He could smell its fetid breath. He used to believe that he was only imagining how bad grubs smelled. But he knew now that they stunk, alive or dead. Another Drone charged him, firing short bursts of fire from his Hammerburst.

_Yeah, I'm gonna die, but so are you, asshole._

He started to reload, oddly detached and relaxed. Someone was yelling at him and he caught the word _down_, but he took no notice of who it was yelling at him. The next thing he knew, he'd been wrestled to the ground and had a body lying across him, covering him as a Boomshot round showered him in blood and bone fragments. He tried to get up. Grenades flashed over him.

"What the hell is wrong with _you_?"

It was Lia. She had pinned him to the ground. Which was a thing to think about. Lia was not a small woman by any means, but even still, she was not packing enough weight to keep a fully rigged Gear down. But she didn't seem to care.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind? _Stay down_!"

The firefight continued around them. He tried to turn his head and see what was happening, but he couldn't see much through the muzzle flash, smoke and flying debris that filtered through the treetops. He turned his head and looked at Lia, and his eyes went dark at the shock and fear that was mirrored in hers.

_Shit. Lia.. I… _

"Eat shit and die!"

Snarled Baird, a few meters to the left of them. There was the familiar _thwack_ of a torque bow arrow being released and an explosion a few seconds later that said the arrow had found its intended mark and blew it to pieces.

"Yeah, baby! Whoo!" Came from Cole. He stood a few inches behind Dom and Lia, spraying fire. "Suck on that, assholes!"

Lia stood up and looked down at Dom for a moment before she held her hand out to help him to his feet. Dom was plunged back into reality, his earlier detachment gone, leaving him with a pounding head and ragged breath.

"Lia…"

"Don't." Fear grabbed her by the throat so that the single word was thin and desperate. "Don't," she repeated with more control.

Damn it, her hands had started to shake again.

"Oh, God, Dom…"

She'd thought she was calm. She'd thought she was steady. But her legs wanted to give. Pride and her years of training made her lock them stiff. But Dom knew Lia well enough to know when she was upset. She was shaking and her cheeks were pale. Guilt crashed over him in waves, and this time it wasn't about Maria. He tried to be his old self, as much as to reassure himself as her.

"Hey," he said as he took one of her hands and held it between one of his own. "I just got mad. Okay?"

"Dom," she said, and her voice trembled. "Baby, it's _not _okay. _You're _not okay."

She let her forehead rest against his cheek. And kicked herself for being a coward. She should have gone to check on him as soon as her Raven landed. She should have been there for him. Hoffman and Doc Hayman woulda sported that, understood it. They all _knew _that he was in a vulnerable state of mind right now. Marcus was able to see a lot, he knew Dom as well as she did. But it was _her_ job to know when a Gear was at the brink of no return and to pull them back.

"Maria wouldn't want you to do this. She'd want you to go on living."

"Dom." Marcus grabbed him by the shoulder suddenly, and Dom could feel the near desperation and anguish that was in his grasp. "_What were you thinking_? What good is beating these bastards if you throw your life away now?"

Dom could decode Marcus well enough to know what he was saying. Fresh guilt crashed over him. "Sorry, man," he said. "I just lost it for a few minutes. I'm alright now."

Marcus let go of his shoulder, then stepped back, nodding. His eyes met Lia's for a second. He could see she was shaken up. He was too. But they had a job to do.

"I know. Now let's finish this and get back to camp."

Marcus walked away, going from grub to grub as if he was counting the number of corpses that lined the ground. He crouched at one point, staring at something, but Dom wasn't sure what. He bent to pick up his Lancer. Lia glanced down and saw the stream of red that was dripping down his arm.

"You're bleeding."

Dom glanced at the wound, and was only vaguely able to recall that he'd been hurt. He shrugged his shoulders. "It's just a flesh wound."

She rolled her eyes. _Men, _she thought in bemused disgust. They always looked surprised, as if they couldn't believe that they had _actually_ been shot.

"I'll still be taking a look at it, thank you."

She reached into the med kit that she, like all Gears, carried and pulled out an antiseptic cloth. She'd need to see the wound in better light and have fresh soap and water to wash away the worst of the blood before she could assess just how bad the wound actually was.

"I'm sure you've had Doc Hayman bust your balls about all the diseases that the Locust carry." She looked over at Marcus, her brow knitted in a frown. "And don't be thinking that you are going to get away with me not having a look at you, too, Marcus."

"Sure thing, Mom."

For Marcus, that was as close to making a joke as he got. Lia's lips twitched but she didn't make a reply. Dom stood quiet because whatever medicine on the cloth was soothing and Lia's touch was gentle. But while he stood there, he watched her. And he wondered. Around them, the battle continued. Lia pressed a clean cloth to the wound to slow the new bleeding and reached into the kit for a sterile gauze pad. She then wrapped his arm with a self-adherent wrap until the pad was completely covered. She secured the temporary bandage, and then gave it a final inspection. It would have to do for the moment.

"There, best that can be done for right now. When we get back to camp I will take a better look at it."

"Lia, how am I supposed to get through this?" His hands flexed, fisted. "Where am I supposed to even start?"

"You start at the beginning." She lifted her head until their eyes met. "Allow yourself to grieve Dom, _really_ grieve."

"I started grieving for her the day that she left."

She breathed in deeply.

"No, Dom, you mourned her disappearance."

Her heart and soul ached for him, for what he was going through, for what he would go through in the coming weeks—months, years to come. But there was absolutely nothing that she could do, there was no Band-Aid she could apply, no medicine she could give him that would take this pain away.

"But you didn't grieve for her because you had hope that she was alive and that you'd find her."

And because she wanted too, because she needed to, she wrapped her arms around him, held him tight. Comfort was a luxury a Gear couldn't afford. But it was something that she could give him, and so did.

"I wish that I could take this pain for you. I wish that I could have prevented you from feeling this pain. But I can't. And I'm sorry, Dom, more sorry than you know."

"Hey, I don't mean to break up the hug fest here, but has anybody heard from Granny?"

Dom turned his head to look at Baird and realized that he could hear Marcus talking to Stratton, and someone else calling for support, but that he hadn't heard from Bernie since after she had taken off after the Kantus. He felt like shit for having forgotten about her.

"Bernie?" He could hear others on the radio net, so knew that Bernie had to be receiving as well. "Hey, Mataki?"

No answer. _Shit. _Maybe her radio was down. Maybe she had turned it off. Maybe- no, there was no maybe. _Maybe _was what he had told himself all those other times when he had been unable to raise someone on the radio. Not answering the radio usually meant that they couldn't for some reason or another. Dom didn't want to think that Bernie had managed to make her way back only to meet her end now. Cole ambled over, having picked up on the conversation.

"Hey Boomer Lady, where you get too?" Still no answer.

"Shit-" Baird saw movement behind the trees. "Hey, you guys see that?"

"Yeah, I saw it Baird."

Marcus paused to listen; the Kantus was still droning. It sounded like the chanting was reverberating from different directions. Marcus indicated the Longshot that Baird had picked up with a wave of his hand.

"Lilia, you go and find Mataki and help her shut those assholes up."

Boomers wouldn't run if there was one Kantus droning, much less two. The droning sounded like plain noise to Dom, loud and obnoxious, but for the grubs it was an all-out call to bear arms. The Kantus were a driving force that made the grubs keep going even when they were badly wounded. Stopping them was extremely important. Baird understood that, just as he understood why Marcus was sending Lia to help Mataki. He just didn't have to like it. Or keep his mouth shut about it. Especially since it was _his_ wife that Marcus was sending off into the unknown.

"Come on bru, what are you thinking?"

He walked up to Lia and looked down at her, his sneer-the one that they all hated so much- firmly in place.

"Maybe it's just me, but I don't find sending a woman off, alone, into a grub invested forest, to be such a good idea. Just asking for trouble. What happens when she finds herself in over her head and we can't get to her to bail her ass out?"

_Ouch. _It was business as normal between them, but yet, Lia hadn't expected him to act quite _that _normal. Lia took the Longshot he held and sent him a look that promised retribution.

"I would watch what you say, _Corporal_."

"Don't pull that rank bullshit on me." Baird turned to look at Marcus. "You know I'm right. She shouldn't even be out here. What the hell are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you're bat shit crazy, that's what I'm thinking." Marcus said. "Lilia's a fully trained Gear, she can handle herself."

"And that's what you're banking on? The skills of a Gear- a _female _Gear at that- who hasn't spent much time frontline over the last few years?"

Marcus let out a long, weary breath. "Yeah, Baird," he said finally. "I am."

"You're going to get her, and us, killed," Baird muttered.

"Hey, c'mon, Damon, let it go."

At any other time, Cole would have made some crack about Baird not getting enough love from his mommy when he'd been a child. But he knew that there was some deep, personal shit between Baird and the Lieutenant. The kind that didn't warrant cracking jokes about. _C'mon baby, pull it back_ he thought. _I know she's your woman and all, but you gotta pull it back right now._

"No way, man." Baird's voice was quiet, and all the more effective for it. "There is absolutely no frigging way I'm allowing -"

"Shut up, _now_." Lia slapped her palm, hard, against Baird's chest plate. "What the hell is wrong with you tonight?"

It was a pointed reminder. _You promised._ But he was tired of the games. Tired of the lies. Tired of pretending that this woman wasn't his and that he wasn't still hopelessly in love with her. Later, when he had a chance to look back at the situation and analyze it, he would question just how it was that a guy that'd spent his entire youth _vowing_ he would never fall in love, had gone and done just that.

"Lia-"

A shot rang out in the distance. He glanced up, cocked his head as he studied the dark terrain. Then he looked back at her.

"No way," he said. "You aren't going out there Lia. I won't allow it."

"_'Allow it_.'" She repeated the question as if it were a new language. "You tend to forget that I do not need, nor do I require _your_ permission here. I'm the senior officer. And _your _CO made the call to send me to help Mataki take care of the Kantus. And I'm going."

She'd brushed him off like a mosquito. Like a gnat. Not with a slash of temper but with irritation. Dom knew that that meant something. The snap of connection between them meant something. He just didn't know what that something was, yet. Baird hissed out a breath and gripped the handle of his rifle more tightly.

"Oh, that's just bullshit and you know it Lia."

"Why are you doing this, Damon?"

_Stubborn, prideful woman, it's because I love you_, he thought, then sighed.

"Because."

"Because?" She threw her head back to laugh. "That's the best answer you have? Because?"

Lia heard the bite in her own voice, and even while it shamed her, she couldn't soften it.

"Lia-" he reached for her but she slapped his hands away.

"If you are so goddamn set on ripping the lid off this jar, have the guts to pour the goddamn contents of the jar on the table."

"Fine, you want why?" Baird ran a hand over his face. Leave it to Lia to throw a gauntlet at him that he sucked balls at navigating. Give him a broken piece of machinery and he would know what to do in an instant. But he wasn't any good at this kind of shit, and she knew it.

"It's because it was a different brand of bullshit back then, okay? _We_ were different. And it was easier to keep this shit locked down when I knew _you_ were not in the field."

"So, it's okay that I could worry myself sick, imagine that you were dead or injured, but it's not okay for you?"

His expression relaxed into a kind of intense concentration, almost like a sense of doubt. Lia waited for him to make another of his chauvinistic comments. But he remained dead silent, his eyes on hers. She looked away, looked at the other members of their entourage. Cole didn't look like he was surprised by the exchange which meant that he either knew or suspected what was between them. Dom was looking at her and at Baird and seemed puzzled. She then glanced at Marcus. He looked like he hadn't seen or heard a thing, which meant that he had seen it all and was doing his best to not react. She was about to say something when the ground at the edge of the tree line erupted, and another horde of grubs- drones and a couple Theron guards- rose from the frozen ground and saved her from having to say anything.

Marcus opened up with the Lancer. Lia reached for the gnasher slung on her back, cursing herself for not grabbing a Lancer and heard a rapid _beep-beep-beep_ some meters away. The blast nearly blew her into a tree. Splintered wood and rock rained down upon her. The smell hit her instantly; scorched metal, fresh blood and earth. Once that registered on her, she felt her conscious mind happily take the backseat and allow her subconscious to take control. She took cover and opened fire. But even amid all the chaos, she could still hear that droning sound. Crouched next to Dom, she shut out the screams, the _rat-tat-tat_, and the muzzle flash and tried to focus on that single, solitary burst of noise. The Kantus had to be stopped. The problem, though, was finding the god damn things in this open maze.

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><p>Time stopped when you were in the fight for your life. All that Dom knew when the cloud had cleared was that he wasn't dead. At least, he wasn't dead <em>yet<em>. He could hear Marcus, and he could hear Cole and Baird yelling over the static of gunfire. But then he realized that he couldn't hear Lia. He tried to raise her on the radio.

"Lia?" No answer. He knew she was receiving because everyone else was. "Hey, Lia?"

Again there was no answer. _Shit_. She must have turned her radio off. No, that was the kind of bullshit he'd often told himself when he didn't want to think that someone had run into trouble. He bobbed up from cover, hitting one of the butcher Boomers with short bursts of fire. Marcus got in a headshot while it was struggling to remain on its feet.

"I hate it when they think," he said.

"Lia's gone after the Kantus, Marcus. And she's not answering the radio."

Dom was close enough that he could see the shift in Marcus's expressions, could feel the stiffness of his body. _Yea, you're just as worried about her as I am buddy_. A bead of sweat ran from Marcus's hairline down his neck. Subzero temperatures or not, fighting the Locust was sweaty business.

"Shut that damn Kantus up, Lia." Marcus paused to listen, the droning chant was going strong but it was definitely not in the synchronized harmony that it had been before. "It sounds like she got one of the bastards. Now she just has to find the other asshole and shut it up."

Dom knew that stopping the damn thing was all that mattered. Just as he knew that the only other person that was capable of finding that Kantus was Lia. It just didn't mean he wasn't worried about her safety. An explosion deafened him for a moment and he felt something pierce the skin of his cheek. When he put his hand up to his face, his fingers came away wet with blood, bone fragments and wood splinters. He was lucky the splinters hadn't blinded him. He was also sure to get another lecture from Lia when she saw the scratches.

"You okay, baby?" Cole dropped down beside him.

Dom could hear via his earpiece, but every other sound—except for the chant of the remaining Kantus, which seemed to be seeping into his brain via his teeth—was muffled, his hearing having been pummeled in the explosion.

"Hey Damon, where you at baby?"

There was no answer. _Shit, he wouldn't have gone after Lia would he_? Dom tried to look around. All he could see was muzzle flash, smoke, and drifting debris picked out in the shafts of light that stabbed down through the forest canopy. The battle was running in systematic bursts. Every time he dropped into cover and back up again, the grubs were somewhere else, waiting, and starting up again. It was almost like they were pushing the Gears deeper into the forest. Every time they fell back a few meters, another mine would detonate. Dom could hear someone screaming. And that was the real nightmare of war: you were pinned down, you couldn't see from which direction the enemy was coming, and you couldn't get to the guy who needed help.

"Anyone near Stanson?" Marcus yelled. "Where the hell is he?"

"I am, Marcus. Shit, it's pretty bad. I'll stay with him."

Marcus almost didn't recognize Stratton's voice at first. But he understood what Stratton was saying. Aw, _shit_. The grubs advancing on them suddenly turned to look behind them. Sigma-One crashed between the trees, spraying fire everywhere. Dom dropped behind the shattered stump of a tree and found himself nose-to-nose with Marcus.

"Okay," Marcus said his finger on his Lancer's power button.

Dom readied his, too.

"Steady…"

The grubs left standing were coming right towards them. And they were about to get a gutful of chainsaw for it.

"Go!"

Dom came out of his crouch and swung his chainsaw into the first gray object that he saw. He wasn't sure where the blades caught it, he didn't really care. He just felt the saw bite and slice through sinew and bone as if it were sliding through paper. The grub slipped down sideways in slow motion—or so it seemed to Dom. When he pulled the saw clear, he was staring straight at the Gears from Sigma-One. _Where the rest of the grubs go? All down. Gone. Well, shit. _The Kantus was still droning though. It sounded like it had moved closer. That was definitely not a _good_ sign.

"Shit-"

Dom saw movement behind the Sigma line. More grubs—Boomers and drones—rose from the frozen ground, cutting off every Gear. It was another wave. For the first time he could remember, Dom found himself wishing that a frag would explode, _now_, right now, get the shit over with and let him go to wherever Maria and his kids were. The thought was gone in an instant. Marcus lobbed a frag grenade between the trees, clear of the Sigma line, and the explosion brought them all two seconds in which to find cover. The battle picked up again. The Kantus was louder than ever; the Boomers charged.

"Lia, kill this noisy bastard," Marcus dropped and sat against the stump of a tree while he reloaded. "_Now_."


	6. Hunting Trip

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything in the GOW universe and I don't profit from this story except for the pleasure that it gives me —sadly heh. Reviews are always welcomed!

**A/N:** For the record, I have made a significant change to a part of this chapter that does reflect something written in one of my other Gears shorts- Sacred Bonds. I would suggest that anybody confused by the change, or how things came to be, read those (read them anyway, they are good! I promise!) because the backstory is explained there.

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><p>She'd just taken care of the first Kantus when Baird caught up to her.<p>

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" He grabbed her arm, pulled her back. "What the friggin' hell do you think that you are doing?" he repeated. "Have you lost your mind or did you _not_ hear what I said back there?"

"What made you think I was going to even listen to that bullshit you were spewing back there?" She tossed back. "You won't _allow_ me to go into the field? Who the hell do you think you are, Damon?"

"Oh, gee, let me think here." He yanked his goggles off, tossed them on the ground. His gaze was blistering, burning blue. "How about I'm your friggin' _husband_?"

"Oh and that just gives you all the rights in the world, doesn't it?" Sarcasm dripped like acid as she glared at him. "I'm not _property_, Damon. You don't _own_ me nor do you have the right to _control_ me."

If she thought he was going to apologize for what he'd said, she was in for a hell of a long wait.

"You know that's not what I was doing. You know it wasn't," he repeated when she scoffed. "And up till now I've been pretty friggin' restrained about you being back on field duty. But _you_ out here, _alone_, hunting _Kantus_? No way, not happening and no reason you have is going to change my mind about that."

"Oh, you were really restrained when you all but _ordered_ me to stand down back there."

"I was not ordering you to stand down," he began, but she had already turned away from him, was already striding away.

Let her go, his mind ordered. Just let her go. If you're both angry, you can't communicate and you only end up hurting each other more. Better to go back to the team and finish the mission before you try and talk with her.

"The hell with that." The words ground between his teeth as he went after her. He grabbed her arm, spun her around so quickly that their bodies collided.

"Lia, you stir shit inside me that even after eighteen years of being married to you I don't know anything about! You've been slapping emotions in my face that I never had to deal with, that I didn't even think I had since we were kids."

The way that he'd said it, that frustrated, verbal explosion triggered memories of previous conversations. He'd grown up in a family even more fragmented than Marcus', than hers had been. Elinor Lytton Baird made her own mother seem downright nurturing in fact.

"I've been swimming in unfamiliar waters with you for the better part of the last fifteen goddamn years. Most often I feel like I'm drowning and it takes everything I have just to keep afloat. Could ya could cut me a little slack here?"

"I know you're swimming in waters that are unfamiliar to you." She was more weary than angry now. "You didn't have a good example of marriage or family when you were growing up. But you can't change what _they_ didn't do, Damon, any more than you can change how _they_ thought and felt. Either about you or each other. You can only change how _you_ think and feel. And do better than they did."

"Isn't that how you dealt with your family?"

It took her a minute, and that was a jolt, to realize that he meant her mother and not her brothers and father. Or Marcus and Dom even.

"I was always luckier than you because I had my father and brothers to love me then. And I had you." She reached up to rest her hand upon his cheek.

"You noticed when I was hurt or angry, lonely or sad. And you were-are," she corrected_._ "There for me whenever and however I need you to be." The smile she gave him was so brilliant that Baird felt everything shift inside him. And slowly begin to settle.

"What more do I need when I've got you, and Alex?"

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're still worth a whole lot more than a friggin' baby maker to me, Lia."

"That's why I never cared about what she said or how she felt about me," she said warmly. As much as she tended to comfort and soothe him, he tended to do the same for her. It was why their marriage worked, why it had lasted. They'd learned how to be there for each other, to give the other what they needed when they needed it most. "I am who I am because _you_ love _me_."

"You've always been too damn sensible about this shit," he replied. "I still haven't figured out whether I admire that or just find it friggin' annoying."

She'd turned back as he spoke. How well she remembered that dark passion in him, that echo of raw vulnerability and boyish uncertainty. It had drawn her to him even as her mind had screamed at her to stay away. And, right or wrong, she had fallen in love with that man.

"Marrying you is the one insensible decision I've ever made that I have never regretted. But Damon, there are still rules and protocols that we are expected to follow. There's still an illusion that we have to present to the world, no matter how much we might want to do otherwise."

"You've always been better at the rules." There was the familiar sting of bitterness in the words, and she could taste it even as he did. "How can you ask me to say nothing? Do you think it was easy for me going into the Hollow and knowing that you could be in there somewhere? That you could be on one of those torture barges, about to get processed and that I couldn't do anything to save you? It rips at me, that uncertainty and fear."

"Do you think that I don't feel that same fear and uncertainty?" She shook her head. "I was nearly sick with it after we got separated. If I hadn't been afraid, I'd have been stupid. And I'm far from stupid." She moved to him then, laid her hand on his chest plate. "Prescott wants us to believe that we can rebuild our civilization. And we both know he's full of shit. You can't rebuild what is still being systematically destroyed. We are a species on the brink of annihilation. You know it, I know it. That idea of annihilation is what rallies me back into the fight, Damon. It pushes my fear and my uncertainty aside—not away, because that is beyond my capabilities—and gets me back up when I've been knocked down."

"You're not going after the Kantus alone."

She sighed. "Damon, could you _try_ and be reasonable?"

"Okay." Because he wanted her to look at him, he cupped her chin, lifted it. "I'm going with you and that's final. How's that for reasonable?"

Lia considered him for a moment. "That's entirely reasonable." She smiled slightly. "For _you_."

"Sorry." He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and then eased back. "Resolving our conflicts and actually hearing what the other is trying to say are still things we need to work on."

Lia blinked at him, then her lips twitched, then curved. "Alright, who are you and what did you do with my husband?"

"Are you mocking me, woman?"

"Me?" She said, blinking her eyes wide. The picture of complete innocence. "Never! I wouldn't dare dream of making fun of the blonde wonder."

"Yeah, whatever you say," he said, his own lips twitching. "Now can we go and shut that Kantus up?"

She nodded. And turned to head down the lane a bit. "I tracked the first Kantus to a groove not far from the battle. But," she said, pointing to a place that was nothing but murky shadows. The perfect place for a Kantus to hide and chant his babbling bullshit. "I think the other one is somewhere in there."

Letting her be the leader was something he had always struggled with throughout the entirety of their relationship. So it was a big change for not only their relationship, but in him when he said; "I'll follow you."

But seeing the surprise and the delight upon his wife's face more than made up for the acidic residue that the concession may have left him feeling. Lia turned to walk into the long shadows of the forest. They were heading away from the battle and in the direction that she thought the Kantus was chanting from. She thought she saw movements matching her own, but when she turned her head to look, there was nothing there. Grenades had torn up the forest and some of the trees had been ripped clean out, roots hanging in the air, trunks leaning at odd angles against other trees.

There were plenty of places where the Kantus could be hiding. Every time she closed her eyes and concentrated, it sounded like the Kantus was only a short distance away; every time she looked around, straining to see through the smoke and shadows, all she saw was vertical columns and horizontal movement, Locust and Gears, but no Kantus in freakish priest robes and wearing some type of ornamental helmet. Where the damn thing could be hiding was anybody's guess. It was damn big, like any grub. But it was loud. It shouldn't be this difficult to find.

"Red, how's your eyesight these days?"

"Now's not the time to make cracks about skills fade, Damon."

He nudged her hard in the back.

"I mean it, Lia. Look."

Lia looked at where he was pointing. There were two big black pits in the ground not more than twenty meters in front of them—emergence holes. She straightened and turned, tightening her grip on the Longshot as she scanned the area in one long and slow arc. In the bushes to her right, she could see triple bars of faint blue, armor indicators—but vertical ones, as if the owner were lying on their side. It took her a minute to make sense of what she was seeing: Bernadette Mataki, lying on her side in the bushes with her Longshot next to her. Had she seen them? Was the Sergeant even conscious? But she'd seen them, all right. She didn't move her body, just her right arm, pointing towards the trees thirty meters to the left and then indicating one with her forefinger.

The Kantus was inside those trees. Bernie could see it, but they couldn't. Then she moved her arm wider, circling her forefinger—southern direction, yeah, Lia got it—then held up two fingers. The grub had shielded himself between two trees and they'd have to flush him out in order to get him. Now that Lia knew where the bastard was, she only had to work out how to get _him_ out without calling any of his buddies to crash the party. Bernie's voice whispered in her earpiece.

"He's standing right between the first set of trees, absolutely stock still."

"If we flush him out, can you take him?"

"Vision's blurry." Bernie's voice was suddenly small and shaky. "You'll have to do it."

Baird muttered and shook his head. "Shit, she shouldn't be out here doing this shit."

"You tell her that, Damon." Lia positioned herself in the crook of one tree and balanced the Longshot in two forked branches. "Can you flush him out for me? Preferably _that_ way."

"Sure you can hit him if I flush him out for you?"

"Just follow the finger wiseass…"

Baird knew that Lia was counting on him to not only flush the Kantus from his hiding spot, but to also make sure that the bastard didn't stumble across where Mataki was lying. But it was damn hard for a guy to be stealthy in a forest that had been ransacked by grenades and boomshot rounds. The turf sloped away into a ten meter drop and a small valley of ravaged forest. The second his boots crunched on twigs and gravel, the Kantus stopped its droning and bolted from its hiding place. Lia didn't fire; the grub went the opposite way, out of her line of sight.

Baird dodged the trees and tried to head the bastard off. _At least the damn thing can't run and chant at the same time_. Baird sprinted around the next tree, just barely catching a glimpse of the Kantus and doing his best to drive it back towards the battle—or so he thought until it whipped around and he saw the muzzle flash as it fired its pistol. The round clipped the branch above his head, sprinkling him with snow and fragments of wood. By the time that the Kantus aimed again—faster than Baird could blink, but not fast enough- a single shot rang out and separated the grubs head from the rest of his body. The Kantus continued to stand there for nearly thirty seconds before finally hitting the ground with a loud _thud_. Lia all but flew out of the trees. She didn't bother with caution or care, just dropped the Longshot and raced across the clearing to where he stood.

"Oh God, my God, you're shot."

"Asshole missed me by a mile." He shot her a cocky grin as he slung his rifle on his back. "You're not getting rid of me _that_ easily, Lia."

Lia blinked, frowned. And _humphed_.

"Damon, if I'd wanted to get rid of you I'd have shot you myself years ago." But her hand fluttered over his cheek for just an instant, like the flutter of wings. "You're sure you weren't hit?"

He caught her hand in his and squeezed her fingers gently. "He didn't hit me, Lia. Promise."

She nodded after a moment. "Then let's collect Bernie and regroup with the others."

They could already hear the tide of battle changing as they headed back, more Lancer fire than Hammerburst rattling through the forest now. The injured Locust weren't rallying back into the fight now that their Kantus were gone, and getting the idea that the party was over. A Boomer turned to run but was cut down by Lancer fire before he got too far. Baird saw a drone just before he saw Bernie—and emptied a clip into it, upside-down, face to groin. Lia ducked and dodged as she ran back to Bernie's position. She almost fell over an uprooted tree limb, sticking up from the hard ground like razor blades. It was hard to work out where anyone was until the firing stopped the smoke cleared, and Gears started calling in as they cleared positions. Baird pressed his earpiece as Lia knelt next to Bernie.

"Hey Marcus, that's two headless Kantus as promised."

"Good job, Baird. What happened to Mataki?"

"Knock on the head. Lia's checking her out now."

"She's okay, then."

"Minus the pounding headache she'll have in the morning, yeah."

Now that the dust was settling and the smoke clearing, Baird could see just what price they'd paid to eliminate a handful of grubs. There were a lot of injured bodies. They'd lost a lot of Gears. Not for the first time, Baird wondered if the war was really over, or if they were only fooling themselves. _Shit, we thought we'd ended it with the Lightmass Bombing. Look how that turned out._ Baird pushed the thought aside and ambled over to examine a discarded cache of Hammerbursts and ammo.

"Hey Lia, we coming back for any of this? Can't waste ammo considering how we can't make more when we run out."

"Can we get Bernie onto a 'Dill back to camp first? Then we can scavenge to your heart's desire, Corporal."

Baird managed a smile. "Hear that, Granny? Red's agreeing to go on a date with me."

"I don't think scavenging for ammo and rifles is what the Lieutenant had in mind for a date, Blondie," Bernie sat up slowly.

She was shaking uncontrollably—from cold, pain, ebbing adrenaline—and she hated looking weak. Especially in front of a tosser like Baird. The thaw had only just started to set in between them. He was still a self-centered cynic with a sexist streak a mile wide and twice as long that she thought needed a good swatting every now and again. But he was trying, she told herself. He had a long way to go to reaching the level of decent human being, but he was trying at least and that was all that mattered.

"Maybe." Baird never really grinned. The most he ever managed was a smirk—that was getting broader as he kicked at the frozen grass. "But it's a helluva lot safer than playing hide-and-seek with a bunch of assholes inside what was left of the Regency Theater."

"When did you two play hide-and-seek with the Locust?"

"Oh, think it's been about six years now," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "It was Lia's idea of a getting-to-know-your-commander date." His eyes held Lia's steadily. Glowed with blue fire as he took his trip down memory lane. "She said we'd get dinner, catch a late movie at the theater, and share a box of popcorn with a bunch of rifle-toting assholes."

His sarcasm was something that Bernie could definitely have done without at that moment. But there was a kernel of truth in what he said that had her craning her neck to look at Lia. Who only lifted her shoulders in a shrug. And flushed a little.

"I remember saying we'd grab some dinner and take in a late show," she said. "But the rifle-toting assholes weren't part of the original plan. They just crashed the party. And didn't offer to share the popcorn."

Through the dim light that broke through the thick forest canopy, Bernie saw a look pass between Baird and Lia. Something was up. She could feel it. Baird didn't have his usual perma-sneer in place. And Bernie'd been around the little tosser long enough to know that him without that sneer was not a usual occurrence. Something was going on and Bernie had a good idea _what_ that something was. But she didn't say anything because it was none of her business. _Who am I to judge? _

"Okay."

She took a loud breath before she tried to get to her feet. But the minute that she was upright, she was stricken with a wave of nausea that rolled thick and greasy through her stomach. She staggered a little, sweat popping out on her skin. With no choice, she leaned against the trunk of a tree and waited for it to pass.

"That's it," Lia said, a finger pressed to her earpiece. "I'm calling for a casevac."

"No. I'm just a little dizzy at the moment." Baird tried to support her arm, and that was so completely unlike him that Bernie didn't know what to think. She wondered if she was in worse shape than she thought. "I can make it to the 'Dill. We're not that far away really. I can make it."

"You ain't looking too good, Granny," Baird said. He began to wonder if he wasn't going to have to haul her out to the Raven. He found himself worrying about how best to grab her without causing her any further injury. "Sure you ain't got something broken? Old people don't heal like they used too."

"I got hit on the head, dickhead."

_Play it cool. You only encourage him if you react. _But Bernie knew that he had a point. She had had more than a few close calls over the years. And she knew that an explosion didn't have to kill you or knock you out to cause brain damage. Not that there was much Doc Hayman could do if that was the case. The COG had lost centuries worth of technology with the sinking of Jacinto. It could be years before they might get something resembling a neurological unit established. _If even then_, Bernie thought with a pang.

"Don't you know the first signs of a concussion are headache, fuzzy or blurry vision, dizziness, nausea or vomiting and balance problems?"

"You want me to knock you on your arse?"

"You can knock the Corporal on his arse," Lia said firmly. "After you go straight too triage. And that's an order."

Gears took care of each other. After all the agony and the devastation of the last few hours, the unfailing comradeship of being a Gear was the most comforting thing in Bernie's life. "Understood, Ma'am."

Gears were jogging towards the trees because while the fighting was done, the battle was far from over. There were still tags to collect, injured to attend too, funerals to arrange. It was a never ending process that they'd all become well accustomed too. Bernie realized that she could hear the rattle of cooling metal, so at least the blow to her head hadn't damaged any part of her auditory system. Eventually she heard a distant droning overlaid with the chatter of rotor blades. Light illuminated the area as a Raven banked in a loop and set down in the middle of the field. Bernie suddenly realized that Lia wasn't with them anymore, and turned back to look.

"She's gone back to start treating the wounded, Granny."

He was doing his best to avoid looking like he gave a shit, and told himself that he only stayed because Lia would want him too. _Yeah, women screw you up bad. But since she's _my_ woman I'll cut her some slack about it. _

"Anyway, Lia would want me to make sure that you got your ass on that Raven. So," he steered her towards the Raven. "If you don't, I'll have the Lieutenant on my back for not making you."

Bernie climbed into the crew bay without protest. She was simply too tired, and her head ached too abominably for her to put up much of a fuss. After she had strapped herself in, Baird turned and began to make his way in the direction that Bernie assumed Lia had gone. She sighed and realized that she'd read Corporal Damon Baird totally wrong. There was a man like any other in there somewhere. And Lia had had the patience to find him.

"You better not hurt her, Blondie," she said.


	7. Grief

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything in the GOW universe and I don't profit from this story except for the pleasure that it gives me —sadly heh. Reviews are always welcomed!

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 3<strong>

_What we need to understand is that a world without order is a world destroyed by chaos. _(Unknown).

**PORT FARRALL, TYRUS, NINE DAYS AFTER THE FLOODING OF JACINTO 14 A.E.**

Lia drove the battered 'Dill through the dark and vacant streets. It was past two o'clock in the morning and all civvies were required—as mandated by the Fortification Act that was still in effect—to be indoors. Beyond that, the night air was too cold for midnight wanderings. Lia could scent that another storm was brewing. Soon this camp of war-torn survivors would be buried beneath another blanket of snow. She'd dealt with more than her share of those not capable of surviving the hard coldness of winter—neither the very young nor the very old were equipped to survive such frigid temperatures for long. They knew the risks, she reminded herself. They knew that leaving Jacinto was going to be tricky and that once broken, the safety net would crumble beneath their feet.

But she hadn't counted on the emotional toll that this evacuation had extracted. If Lia hadn't been keeping a sharp eye out for any curfew-breakers, she would have collapsed at the wheel of the APC. She'd been working eighteen-hour days for the last nine days—fourteen in the treatment centers and four covering the patrol shifts that would have been filled by Jeter Stanson. Thinking about the private made her heart clench with renewed grief and pity. _Poor kid made it out of the Hollow only to bite it here in Port Farrall_. Once she had thought that she was used to the loss of a squad mate; that she had come to understand and accept that war and death was a faucet of life that a Gear had to deal with. But she'd been wrong. So wrong.

You never got used to losing your squad mates. As Lia drove slowly through the streets, she saw two Gears carrying a plastic sheet between them. Another body that would need to be added to the day's list. She sighed as the 'Dill passed them. Deaths had been inevitable she told herself. Frost was a bitter season at best and the accommodations here in Port Farrall were grim, despite the engineer's best efforts to bring what buildings they could salvage up to something at least fit for human habitation.

Hoffman had set up a temporary HQ and barracks inside an abandoned boarding school. Lia drove the 'Dill into what had once been the staff car park and jumped out into the frigid air. Other Gears were ambling about outside, many, like her, just returning from patrol shifts. As she crossed to HQ, she looked about her for sign of anybody that she knew. William Barkane stood outside the entrance of the barracks, knocking snow from his boots and armor plates. His young face was gray with exhaustion and sorrow.

In the nine days since the fall of Jacinto, the reality of all they'd had to leave behind—of all that they had lost—had become a hard hitting piece of reality that none of them could deny any longer. She nodded to him as she headed for CIC—an old laundry converted into the COG's central hub of communications—to update the days end death toll. Hoffman was leaning over a chart with Anya and an EM chief that Lia didn't immediately recognize. They seemed to be checking routes between the docks and the parts of the city that were not currently inhabitable. Lia knew that nobody had debarked from any of the larger vessels in the evacuation fleet because of the lack of housing. As far as she was concerned, they were better off being left exactly where they were.

"Lieutenant," Hoffman said, glancing at her for a moment. "I'm hoping you're bringing me the days end death toll."

"Last count was seventy-seven. That was four hours ago, sir."

"Seventy-seven?"

At her nod, Hoffman sighed and looked down at the maps spread before him. It wasn't disease or even renegade bands of Locust out there killing people. It was the god damn cold. A force of rampaging grubs he could fight with military weaponry. But how was he supposed to fight a force of nature? His biggest fear used to be that he would screw up the defense of Jacinto and humankind would be wiped out because of it. Now his biggest fear was that the people would freeze to death.

"What can we do, Lieutenant? The EM team is working around the clock to make what buildings they can habitable. And we've set up as many tents and heaters as we can to get what people we can out of the cold. What more can we do?"

What could they do? It was a valid question. And she knew why Hoffman was directing it at her; she was a doctor and knew the fragility of the human body better than any of them. But she didn't have an answer that would offer much on how best to resolve the problem they were facing. Time had just been too short and the season all wrong for this evacuation. She considered what to say, and then decided that the truth was the best.

"We knew the risks, sir. We knew that a full scale evacuation was going to be difficult under even the best of circumstances. All we can do right now is exactly what we _are_ doing—getting what people we can indoors and out of the worst line of the storm. We don't have a switch that can flip the climate from cold to warm—nor did we have a crystal ball that said we'd have to evacuate Jacinto at the start of Frost."

He thought what she said over. It was sensible. And it was honest. Hoffman preferred her sensible honesty to the Chairman's carefully constructed lies and half-truths.

"Lieutenant, I want you to help Sergeant Mataki with giving daily survival classes to the civvies. Many of them don't even know what the hell hypothermia and frostbite is. Is there anything practical they can do to protect themselves from this cold?"

"They can do what our ancestors did, sir. Insulate their clothing and housing with animal hides and burn what wood not needed for building for additional sources of heat." She glanced at the door behind her, and her smile was grim. "Our ancestors survived with less. We can too, sir. It's just a matter of training ourselves to not rely on what no longer exists."

Hoffman nodded. _Give a man a fish and you have fed him for the day. But teach the man how to fish and he will have food for a lifetime._

"Make sure that you see Parry about what supplies his recon teams found on the south side of the city. Anything that can be used at this point, use it. We may be forced back into the dark ages but it doesn't mean we have to go without a few modern conveniences."

"There were supplies that the Stranded didn't already uncover and pilfer for themselves?"

"They were in _another _secure COG facility that we kept to ourselves."

_Aha_. So the Colonel was still livid about the Chairman not divulging all information to him. _Don't blame you, Colonel_. It was likely that Hoffman would have to beat any remaining information from out of Prescott anyway. _Politicians are such snakes in the grass. _Anya_, _wearing sensible working rig and flat boots now, gave her a quick flash of the eyebrows. So words had definitely been had between the two. What she would give to be a fly on the wall during the next exchange between the two men.

"Will do, sir. Is there anything else?"

"I'm hereby removing you from the medical staff, Lieutenant. You're back on full active field duty."

"I thought I already was back on full duty, sir?"

"Unofficially, you were." He leaned over the chart again, both hands flat on the table. "But we have to face the fact that our society is more at risk of collapsing now than it ever was during the war. People are dying of cold and hunger. And they are mighty angry and damned scared right now. Angry and scared people are a dangerous combination. I need every trained Gear I've got back in active service to ensure that order is maintained."

"We're not fighting a war against an enemy we can unite against, sir."

Yes, he appreciated Lieutenant Carmine's candor. He'd definitely take her candor over the Chairman's dishonesty anytime.

"Indeed. And things are only going to get a whole lot worse before it's going to get any better. Which is why I need you back on the frontline, Lieutenant."

"Doctor Hayman won't be pleased, sir. The medical unit is understaffed as it is."

Hoffman managed a smile. "You let me worry about that. Now you're rostered off. Get some sleep."

"Will do, sir," she said.

She left then without another word and headed for the barracks to wake her watch relief, Cole. And damn it was _cold_ in here. It took her a moment to orient herself, to make out the shapes and figure out how she was going to navigate her way through without waking anybody unnecessarily. The sleeping quarters were little more than bare mattresses and neat rows of camping cots. But Gears could sleep in just about any climate or condition. She wound her way through the maze of bodies until she saw the familiar figure of Augustus Cole lying on a mattress in one corner of the room. Apart from his sheer size, no other Gear was crazy enough to sleep with his arms bare.

"Cole," she leaned over to set a hand on his arm. She knew the instant that his mind came alert, felt the muscles beneath her hand bunch and tense. He opened his eyes and looked up at her.

"Morning, ma'am." His voice was thick and sleepy. "Nice night for makin' sure the civvies stay indoors, ain't it?"

"If you like icicles hanging off your eyelids, it's perfect."

Lia had never been able to figure out what it was that a guy as sweet and _nice_ as Augustus Cole saw in her husband. On a good day Baird was surly and rude, a complete opposite to this good-humored man. Cole got to his feet and stretched his back.

"Ma'am," he said, with cheer. "It's not my eyelids I worry 'bout icicles formin' on."

Lia bit back a laugh. "Touché, Cole, touché." Through the cracks in the roof they heard the rising wind howl. Knowing that the temperature was going to drop to shit and fast, Lia took off her scarf and handed it to him. "Take it." She said it softly. "And make sure to use the jacket and gloves in the APC. Even with the heat on it got damn cold."

"Yes, ma'am."

Cole draped the scarf around his neck and ambled away with his Lancer slung over his shoulder. Lia shook her head, a smile trembling on her lips.

"Lia."

She turned and saw Baird sitting up in bed. The sight of him was a balm to her soul even as it roused desires long suppressed.

"Did we wake you?" She moved to the bed; gave into impulse and brushed her lips over his cheek, his lips. "I'm sorry if we did."

How did a guy like him get a girl like her? he wondered. Sometimes Baird questioned if it was because she was bat shit crazy or because he was the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

"I wasn't asleep yet."

"When did you roster off?"

"About an hour ago."

"And you aren't asleep yet?" That wasn't like him. _What's up?_ She wondered. She sat on an overturned crate and began removing her armor plates. "Aren't you supposed to be back on watch in four hours?"

"I changed shifts with Marcus."

He studied her face. Most of her adrenaline had ebbed, and he saw exhaustion intermixed with sadness breaking through to haunt her face. _Shit, she's lost all four of her brothers hasn't she? _The realization depressed him more than he had thought it would. He didn't know if it was a sane man's reaction to his wife's loss, or a logical man's reaction to what he knew he should be feeling. Everyone had lost someone in this war—everyone but him, of course, and he was grateful that he'd been spared that shit. But Lia had _loved_ her brothers. It was a given that she would be saddened by their deaths. He tried to work out if there was something he should say, or do… but shit; he didn't know what it was he _could_ do. He didn't know what he should say; he didn't have Marcus's capability to say the right thing or Cole's knack for offering words of wisdom and comfort when they were needed most. He settled for holding out a hand.

"Come to bed, Lia."

Because she knew that she couldn't, she sighed. "I'm tired, Damon. And I really don't want to argue about this now."

"Then don't argue about it. You need to rest." He paused when she made to get up. "Look, don't go and get all sulky on me."

"I'm not sulking." No, she wasn't sulking, he thought. What she was was at the breaking point. And the sight of that chink in her armor had him scared shitless. "I'm tired. And you know how churned up I get when I'm this tired."

"Stay here with me then."

She shook her head. "No, I can't. But I won't say I am not tempted by the offer, particularly after how shitty this last week has been. Good night, Damon."

But her voice, always so smooth, so sure, trembled.

"Lia-" he slipped a hand through her hair to rub the back of her neck. "Would you forget about the goddamn rules for once in your life?" _You're overemotional right now. _Baird nearly said it but wisely checked his tongue. Pissing her off was definitely _not_ the way to get her to stay. "Stay here with me tonight."

To say she didn't want to stay with him would be a lie. And, she admitted, cowardly.

"I'd like to stay with you tonight," she said finally. "I want to stay with you tonight. But I can't."

Baird glared, one long, frustrated stare. "So why can't you?"

Lia glanced at the man asleep on the cot next to them. Dom was resting quietly for the moment, but that was all he was doing. Her heart quivered at the sight of the grief etched onto his face even in sleep but when she spoke her voice was calm and even.

"Because Dom just lost Maria. And he doesn't-" To her horror, her voice broke and her vision wavered with tears. "Damn it, I told you that I was churned up. Why couldn't you leave well enough alone?"

"Okay. Whoa." He drew her into his arms, stroked her hair. "How about you just hold on to me?"

"I hate crying." But she laid her head upon his shoulder, sighed when his arms encircled her. "And I really, _really_ hate you at the moment for making me."

_Yeah, that's why she won't stay. _He felt like a complete bastard for having not picked up that she was thinking about Dom, about his feelings. _Guy's lost his entire family—wife, kids, parents, brother. Shit, he had to put his own wife down as if she was a rabid dog. No wonder he's such a fucking mess. _That Dom hadn't put a bullet in his own brain was an amazing thing to Baird. Dom tried to act as if he was still the same optimistic and good-natured guy he'd been before going into the Hollow. But they could tell he was hurting. Baird didn't know what he'd do, how he would act if he was in the guy's boots. _Caring screws you up man. _He sighed and held her tighter.

"Quit your yappin' and hold on to me."

"You're an asshole." But she gave in, gave up and wrapped her arms around him. "You know that, right?"

Baird _ffffed_. _Asshole_ from her was the equivalent of an endearment from anybody else.

"Yeah, but you love me in spite of it."

She buried her face against his shoulder. "I love you because of it."

"See? Being an asshole has proven useful."

She buried her head into his shoulder. Whispered; "I've lost all four of my brothers, Damon."

He sighed, stroked her back. "I know."

And held her as she wept out the grief that was in her heart.


	8. Secrets Told

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything in the GOW universe and I don't profit from this story except for the pleasure that it gives me —sadly heh. Reviews are always welcomed!

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><p>She woke tucked into his bed still, thin trickles of sunlight sliding over her face, and grateful that she woke alone. The hangover from the night before wasn't the clanging bell from a night spent using alcohol as a cushion, but the dull throb of emotions finally allowed to be vented. Damon had laid a jacket over her to ward off the cold, and removed her boots she saw. Sweet of him, she thought as she sat up, drawing the jacket around her. He'd been very sweet and very gentle in fact, and had given her exactly the comfort and security that she'd needed. She checked her watch for the time.<p>

The fact that it was past noon made her groan as she tossed off the jacket to sit on the side of the bed. Too much to do, she scolded herself, and no time in which to coddle a half-assed hangover held over from a night of sobbing. Before she could gather the fortitude to stand, Dom walked in. He carried a Styrofoam cup that held the alluring scent of freshly brewed coffee.

"I'd say good morning," he said, handing her the cup. "But it probably doesn't feel that way when your head feels like it's about to split in two."

"It's not that bad actually," she told him. "I've had worse hangovers in fact."

"Yeah, I remember that you puked all over my boots the last time."

She made a face at him. And lifted the cup, took a careful sip. The first jolt of caffeine hit her system, activating the areas of her brain that were not completely awake yet. She sighed with pure pleasure.

"I recall there was a lot of alcohol involved in my acquisition of that particular hangover. Just as I recall," there was a wicked gleam in her eyes now. "That you passed out in the doorway of the barracks. And that Marcus had to lug your happy ass to your bed."

Dom laughed softly and sat on the upturned crate. He had many memories of nights spent in overindulgence and the price that he'd paid come the next morning.

"He was definitely not happy with us, that's for sure."

Lia grimaced and sighed, heavily. Marcus angry was not something she was looking forward to dealing with. It wasn't that she was scared of him, she knew how far she could push before it was time to back off and leave well enough alone. But he'd _changed_. And while she knew what Marcus would do in a given situation, she had even less idea now about how he processed sensitive information.

"I wish Marcus would yell like a normal person when he gets angry or annoyed. I hate the little punishments he comes up with to get his displeasure across."

"You didn't get bathroom detail."

Her lips twitched. "You were the one that picked option two."

"I figured option one would be the worst."

Lia snickered but didn't make a reply. They sat in companionable silence for a time. Dom tried to work out the best way in which to ask her about what was going on between her and Baird. It was obvious that there was some type of connection between them, and Dom had a pretty good suspicion about what that connection was, but he wanted to hear it from Lia. _She'll either tell me the truth or to mind my business. Baird will just give one of his typical smart assed comments. _He took a deep breath, and just jumped right into the topic.

"Lia, what's up with you and Baird?"

"Yeah, I was waiting for when you would ask me that particular question. But are you sure that you want to know the answer, Dom?" She sighed, stared into the cup of coffee. "Shit, I've wanted to tell you for a long time but I didn't because I didn't know how you would take it."

He shrugged. "How bad can it be?"

She had the option of either telling him the absolute truth and dealing with the consequences, or concocting a half-truth that would still be a lie and would only make her feel more guilty than she already was. Lia chose to tell him the absolute truth and deal with the consequences.

"He's my husband, Dom. We've been together since we were fifteen and married since we were seventeen."

She saw the faint flicker of surprise come and go in his eyes as he studied her. Dom _hated_ surprises. Even the surprises that ended up saving his life managed to bug the shit out of him. But he was seemingly taking this one in his own stride. Dom let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face. _I've known her for nearly half my life. We've practically been friends since the both of us were kids. How could she have kept this a secret? Shit how couldn't I have just known?_

"I-" he took another deep breath.

Dom found himself struggling with the process of accepting Lia being married to the surly, cynical and frequently sexist Damon S. Baird. But it just wasn't making any sense, and it just didn't seem believable. If anything, it seemed… like a lie. But she definitely didn't look like she was being less than honest with him. If anything, she looked…. sincere.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Oh shit. Now_ he understood why she'd never told him, never even so much as hinted at who Alex's father was. It all made perfect sense now. She was thinking of him, of his feelings, of how he'd react to the news that her family was whole while his was all dead.

"He's Alex's father isn't he?"

She nodded, and then looked down at her hands. "Yes, he is."

"How did you guys manage to keep it a secret for so long?" He sat beside her. "Especially from Hoffman?"

_Shit, does Anya know? _Dom suspected that she did. Anya and Lia were thick as thieves. There was no way that she wouldn't know. Lia sighed.

"Hoffman knows, Dom. He was the one that arranged for our marriage certificate to _conveniently_ get misplaced once Baird signed up on E-Day. And while there are lots of things that I will never forgive Hoffman for having done, most of them to Marcus in fact, I owe the man for breaking protocol the way that he did. He didn't have to allow Damon and I to remain married and did."

"I've come around to the fact that Baird has a wife. I didn't know the guy when he was seventeen and none of us are the same now as we were then. But him having a kid?" He pushed to his feet again when she stared at him. "Guy just never reminded me of someone who wanted children."

"We didn't exactly plan on having Alex." _Not anymore than you and Maria planned on having Benedicto. _She reached out and touched his arm. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, Dom."

"Don't be. I understand why you didn't." He touched her hand, and then turned towards the door. "Come outside when you're ready. We've got snow detail."

And then he was gone. Lia kept staring even after he'd left, her thoughts in a whirl.

* * *

><p>"Seriously, what are you going to do when you run out of wildlife to torment?" Baird asked, puffing clouds into the freezing air. "Hunt Stranded instead?"<p>

Bernie brought the battered 'Dill to a halt at outer checkpoint marker twelve.

"By the time the wildlife runs out, Blondie, _you'll_ be dead." She jumped out to look at the haul of deer carcasses strapped to the hatch surfaces and panniers of the APC. "Civvies that I took out this morning got four deer they are hauling back in an old truck they borrowed. With these four that makes _eight, _Blondie. That's a lot of meat in which to feed hungry people. It's also a lot of good leather. In fact, if you're a good boy, I'll make you some nice leather diapers."

"You're loving this shit, aren't you?"

"People can't live long on a diet of dry rations alone, Blondie. We have to have meat. Now mount up."

Bernie drove into the refugee camp with a mixed bag of thoughts and feelings. Her central reason for having struggled across half of Sera had been to reach the Jacinto Plateau and rejoin the COG. She'd fully intended to do what she could to stop the monsters springing up from the ground and get her world back before she was either too old or too dead to see it happen. But now the grubs were all but gone and she didn't have as many reasons to get out of bed as she used too. Being the COG's survival expert would have to be her reason for getting up.

Her particular type of skills was vital to a world that had been taken almost to the brink of destruction. Teaching the civilians—and the Gears not equipped at making do with what they had- how to survive in a world that was so uncertain now was the essential key to getting through this evacuation. The first days following the destruction of Jacinto were going to be the hardest. It was expected to be the hardest. But now the reality of everything they'd lost—as limited as the resources had become near the end of the war—was just starting to reveal itself. People needed to know that they would survive, that there was a way to _exist_ while the world was beginning to rebuild itself. People needed something to _hope_ for almost as much as they needed good food in their bellies.

"So how many dead were there today?" she asked.

"And what makes you think I know that number?"

"Figured with how you act like such a know-it-all, Blondie."

Baird made his _ffff _noise.

"Seventy-seven," he said.

Just thinking about the number of dead reminded him of the sorrow and exhaustion that had been etched on his wife's face the night before. _Shit, she's been staring at the ugly side of this war for the last six years. _There was a hard place in the middle of his chest, like a fist poised to strike. Breathing around it was an effort, but he pulled himself together and said; "hypothermia's not so good for the life expectancy of elderly people. Better make yourself a cat-fur jacket, Granny."

Bernie debated boxing his ears for that. But the little tosser had a point. _Unfortunately_, she thought with a sigh. This winter was already proving to be a bitter one and the accommodations of the camp were less than piss poor, despite the engineer's best efforts to get things into some semblance of order. It was all about time—it always had been about time in fact. A different season and this evacuation would have gone much more smoothly.

If they'd had more time they could have sewn additional crops, laid in more provisions, moved people more slowly. But time had simply not been on the Coalition's side in the end. All they could do right now was make do with what rations had been shipped out with the emergency convoy and supplement that with whatever they could forage from the land itself. As Bernie drove through the streets, she spotted three civilians carrying a heavy blue tarp like a battlefield travois. More dead? No, whatever it was that they carried was definitely not _human_. When the 'Dill passed she could see that the tarp bulged with what looked to be wild fowl.

"And there goes more evidence of that boom-and-bust cycle of nature I was telling you about a few days ago, Blondie."

"There you go talking that crazy Islander shit again."

"Not crazy, Blondie," she said. "Just the law of evolution. Humans die off and the animal population sees a boom in their numbers." She flicked her gaze over Baird, contemplated and considered if she could trick the little shit into admitting what his real connection to Lia was. "You should talk with Lieutenant Carmine if you don't believe me. I tend to recall her writing a paper based around Barrow's theory on evolution when she was still in intermediary school."

"It was on Alexander Darwin and his theory on the survival of the fittest and how it related to the human population becoming the dominant species."

As soon as he'd said it, he knew he'd stepped onto dangerous grounds. He gave Bernie a look—that dead-eyed predator look that didn't impress her one bit and said; "I had a couple of classes with her. And unlike the other 99 percent of the population, Lia has an IQ above the third grade."

He'd only taken the Anthropology class because Lia had signed up for his advanced calculus class, he recalled, looking out to where Gears were busy patrolling the streets. That had been the only way that they could spend time together without his mother bitching about it. _Fucking bitch. Never thought Lia was good enough. _But it was a hell of a note to realize, all at once, how much he missed that time. Missed the near uncomplicatedness of it all, the simplicity of the relationship they'd had and the life they'd begun building. They only had had to worry about his mother and father trying to bust up their relationship instead of a bunch of dick-for-brains bureaucrats. But he didn't say any of that to Bernie. He'd already said too much by his reckoning. He busied himself by rummaging in his pack for a cloth that he used to wipe his goggles.

"So," Bernie said. "Lilia Carmine, Blondie."

Baird didn't look up from what he was doing. "What about her?"

"Why's she working as a doctor? Kid comes from a long line of tried and true Gear stock. She should be out in the field and heading up her own company. She was already proving herself capable of handling her own company when I was discharged."

"How many options do you think were open to her after she testified on Marcus's behalf?" Baird muttered. He was on terrain even rockier now. "Lia lost the respect of many of those in command, Hoffman most especially when she essentially chose Marcus over the COG. Only two options open to her after that were to transfer into the medical unit or bang out some kids."

It wasn't a complete lie by Baird's way of looking at it. Lia _had_ lost a lot of command's trust when she chose to defend Marcus and Hoffman _had_ told her that the only option that she had was to transfer to the medical unit. He just neglected to mention that it was her only option _because_ she was pregnant with Alex at the time.

"So she chose to transfer to the medical unit and do something she's good at."

_Okay, I can believe that a woman like Lia would choose the medical unit over becoming a brood mare. But there's something the little shits holding back, I know it. _What that something was, Bernie couldn't figure out. But she knew that what she saw in his face was not the normal _me-me-me _Damon Baird that she'd come to know and done battle with. _Let's see what he says if I tighten the screws a little. _

"So you had nothing whatsoever to do with her staying with the medical unit? Being how you are such a major _supporter_ of female Gears on the frontline and all."

With a snort of disgust, Baird stowed the cloth he'd been using in his pack and looked at her.

"How long we going to keep playing this game, Granny?"

"Until you get bored with it, Blondie. I keep telling you to never piss about with an old sergeant."

"Look Mataki, if you want to know why Lia chose to stay with the medical unit, I suggest that you go and ask her."

Bernie planned on doing just that after she'd dumped these carcasses at HQ. But the process was slowed by the number of civilians combing the streets in search of missing friends and relatives. Everybody had reached the stage where the shock of the move had begun to wear off and the process of settling in just beginning. But they still had a long way to go. And Bernie knew that grief-stricken people with nothing but time on their hands was a lethal combination.

"Has command managed to get a count of how many civilians survived the move yet?"

Baird shook his head. "No. Stragglers were still arriving an hour ago. And Cole said more of the civvies left this morning to see if the local Stranded would take them in. Command can't get an actual tally of all survivors until the civvies pick somewhere and actually stay put."

"Ungrateful tossers. What makes them think they will be better off living with the Stranded?"

"Because the Stranded aren't _us_, Granny."

Yea, they were the enemy that the civilians could unite against, that they could blame for how shitty their lives had become. People had a limit to how much they could endure. And not all of it was about the lack of supplies or the conditions under which they'd been forced to live these last few years. Bernie shook her head.

"I don't know why that crimps my guts but it does. And shouldn't we be working on a way to bring our civilizations together if this is all that is left of the human race anyway?"

"Get real. Those ungrateful assholes haven't figured out yet that we were never the bad guys." Baird paused a beat. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I'm dead serious, dickhead."

Insults just bounced off Baird. He took shit in the same stride that he dished it out in. And Bernie knew how well he could dish shit out. She'd had to kick him back in line more than once. Baird sighed and shook his head.

"I mean that now that the fighting's stopped, you don't know what to do except harass the local wildlife and spout reunification bullshit."

"Haven't noticed you happily sailing off into that long goodnight either, Blondie."

"It's been years since I've gone without some type of a firefight."

The way he said it, simple and to the point, resounded hardest with Bernie. _Will there ever be a time where we won't be at war with someone or something_? She wasn't sure. Baird took out his earpiece and rubbed his ear.

"I don't have a clue as to what comes next. Or what I should do now that the fighting is done."

Bernie watched that flicker of uncertainty on his face, and understood it. She'd felt the same way in the days following the end of the Pendulum Wars. And life had definitely changed again, even more than it had on E-Day. The COG had been at war—in one way or another—for the better part of the last ninety years. Peace was a foreign territory that many of them had stopped dreaming about.

The human race had to learn how to navigate through the murky waters that came with the end of war. But peace was going to depend upon if the human race could come back together and heal the wounds that had been inflicted. If they couldn't, then the human race would be heading from one war right into another. And Bernie wasn't sure that mankind could survive another war at this point. She inhaled deeply. Baird smelled faintly of phenol.

"Is Doc Hayman having the place sprayed with disinfectant again?"

"Yea," he said. "Don't know what diseases the stragglers might be carrying on them. Think of it as vermin control."

Most of the civvies had been given enough warning about the evacuation that they had been able to get ahead of the worst of the flood. But a significant number of civilians had been caught in the flood's path and only barely managed to get out alive. What diseases they might have picked up while they struggled to get onto dry land was anybody's guess. And Bernie knew that the threat of disease running through the camp was almost as big a concern as a Locust invasion. But at least they could do something about preventing an outbreak of a potentially dangerous disease, she thought. There was nothing that they could do about an impending Locust invasion apart from being prepared for the chance of one.

"Better to be safe rather than sorry, Blondie. Especially since our medical resources are pretty strained at this point."

"Whatever you say, Granny."


	9. Revelations

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything in the GOW universe and I don't profit from this story except for the pleasure that it gives me —sadly heh. Reviews are always welcomed!

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><p>As the 'Dill wound its way through the streets, Bernie saw that different factions were beginning to materialize from among the remnants of Jacinto's survivors. Civvies stood apart from the Gears and stared—glared would be more of an accurate description really-as if the Gears were as much their enemy as the Locust. Anybody that happened to be between the two groups—mostly those who were in noncombat roles like the sappers and drivers—didn't mingle with either faction, choosing instead to stick with their own individual groups. <em>We're getting as bad as the Stranded. Splitting into different factions and drawing dividing lines that the other isn't to cross on pain of death. <em>Bernie parked the 'Dill in what had once been the staff car park of an abandoned boarding school and jumped out to begin unloading with Baird. Gears that had been standing around doing nothing wandered over to help. Bernie could hear Cole's booming laugh before he came ambling through the entrance doors.

"Boomer Lady, I'm sure glad you've given up eatin' kitties but what you goin' do when you run out of wildlife to shoot?"

"Hey, Granny can always take up knitting Cole."

"Baby, you in need of another charm lesson." He held out his arms. "Here, let the Cole Train take one of those."

"All the charm lessons in the world won't help him Cole." Lia stood outside the entrance, leaning on a shovel that she'd been using to clear snow from the front entrance into the CIC. "Being an asshole just comes too naturally for him."

Baird lowered another carcass from the 'Dill's roof, letting Cole absorb its weight.

"Nice to see you up and about, Red." He studied her face. She looked rested, with the subtle bloom of healthy color in her cheeks. It helped ease some of the tension that he'd been feeling. "See you're doing manual labor today. What, no noses in need of wiping?"

"Only nose that will need wiping will be yours if you don't knock it off."

It was so blessedly normal, to be standing in the snow, bantering with him instead of worrying that he was in the field somewhere dead or dying.

"Hoffman officially placed me back on active field duty this morning," she said. "And wiping noses is not the core responsibility that he has me tasked for."

She watched his face and knew the instant that her words registered. But to her surprise he didn't pitch the fit that she'd been envisioning he would. If anything he looked…_relieved_. And that wasn't like Damon S. Baird at all. He'd never made his feelings about women Gears a secret. _So did last night spook him that much?_ She wondered. Or was it that he was as tired of being apart as she was? She vowed to find out soon as she could get him alone.

"About friggin' time Hoffman got off your tail," Baird snorted as he climbed down from the roof of the 'Dill. "Don't think I've changed my opinion about women serving on the frontline—bad bad idea still- but you did well enough the other night. Course," he couldn't resist adding. "That was only because you had me out there keeping you safe."

Cole hefted the carcass Baird had handed him as if it weighed absolutely nothing.

"Are you goin' to be joinin' up with Delta, ma'am? We sure could use someone to keep Baird's mouth in check."

"I've been trying to keep Baird's mouth in check for the last twenty years Cole," her eyes vowed retribution as she looked up at Baird. "Afraid I haven't managed to find a method that works for more than a few minutes at a time. But I'm always up to the challenge. And always willing to take suggestions."

"Twenty years," Bernie said, her voice registering her amazement. She still remembered Lia as a leggy seventeen-year-old with flame kissed hair and eyes as warm as summer fog. She had been the pretty cadet that had caught the eye of the young Infantry men fresh out of the Academy and far from their homes and girlfriends. Bernie had always assumed that Lia had had eyes for Marcus, given how close the two had been at the time. But now she realized that there'd been a surly mouthed _sweetheart _waiting for the young cadet back at home.

"How long have you two actually known each other?"

"I've known Damon my whole life actually," Lia explained as she set the shovel down on the ground and knocked snow from her boots. "Damon's family estate was near ours. He would come over every day to do _guy stuff_ with Clay-and with Daniel once he got big enough to join in on the fun."

She smiled at that, as despite the time and circumstances, it was still a nice memory.

"In fact, Damon used to spend so much time at our house that Dad gave him a bedroom of his own. Which, Damon, of course, turned into a workshop that he filled with all sorts of seemingly useless junk that he'd spend hours tinkering with."

And that was a constant that had never changed, no matter the years or what hardships that Damon faced. Her husband just had a knack for turning whatever small space he managed to carve for himself into a place where he could happily tinker away on the machines that he loved.

"I don't know how it was that Dad knew- we didn't associate with the Baird's for the most part and Damon wasn't big on talking about his problems- but he knew Damon needed to feel like he belonged to a family, that he was loved and wanted and that he mattered for the person he was, not the social symbol that he represented. We all did our best to give him that. And while I won't insult anybody's intelligence by denying that Damon has some really annoying personality flaws, I will say that the love and guidance that my Dad gave him has prevented him from being an even bigger asshole than he already is."

Bernie could only envision how much worse Baird might have been if he hadn't had some type of fatherly influence in his life. It also explained the connection that was between them. But it was just a bit too neat of an explanation to Bernie's way of thinking. While knowing someone all your life could give you an intimate connection to them, it did not atone for the emotions that she saw and heard.

"I can't imagine that his folks took well to their son living at his friends' house and being raised by his friends' parents."

Lia only barely suppressed a sneer. Seeing hatred boiling on the Lieteunant's face surprised Bernie, who had never seen such virulent emotion like that from her before.

"It's not like they actually paid attention to their son or knew where he was half the time," said Lia. "Only time his parents paid him any type of attention was when they bitched at him for either not living up to their expectations or for having done something that caused them social embarrassment."

_Like when he told them that he wouldn't marry the girl they'd chosen for him because he was married to me. _She glanced over to where Baird was fiddling with the hatch controls of the APC. She knew he was doing his best to act like he hadn't heard a word that she'd said but she knew he'd heard every word. She looked back at Bernie.

"Jocelin and Elinor Lytton Baird are two deaths I do not mourn. Not after the emotional damage that they inflicted upon their son."

"You're in love with him." Bernie said it quietly. "Aren't you?"

There was a time, not so long ago, where that statement would have come hard for her to answer. It still took her a moment to find what she wanted to say, and how she wanted to say it. _Just take the bull by the horns. Isn't that what she taught me to do when facing a difficult situation?_

"Hell Mataki, I wouldn't have married the dickhead if I wasn't in love with him."

"Well, you don't need me to remind you about the laws prevent…. What? What? _Married_?" Bernie's mouth dropped open as she goggled. "Well, shit," she said even as Lia's lips curved with amusement. Why she was so surprised? Hadn't she suspected that there was something deeply personal between the two? "Guess I got the answer that I was after."

"That's right Granny," Baird said, slanting a look at Lia as he ambled over to join them. That she'd openly admitted that they were married had caught him by as much surprise as it had Mataki. "Now you've got the answer that you were badgering me for on the way here."

Bernie took a moment to process it. Lia was probably the most compassionate person of them all, being that she was a Doctor. But it was bloody hard to remain a compassionate person in a world that saw more death than it did life. Maybe having something as solid and real as her husband's love—as hard as it was for Bernie to accept that Baird was actually capable of loving anybody but himself—was what had given Lia the strength to continue caring-that had gotten her through the dark and terrible days they had all faced.

"You told me to ask Lia, Blondie."

"Wait, you badgered me about telling everybody that we're married but you couldn't tell Bernie?" the sarcasm in Lia's tone was dripping. She tilted her head to look at him. "What, did you suddenly realize how admitting you have a wife might hurt that carefully cultivated image you have as the COG's biggest asshole?"

He snorted. "I believe that the title of COG's biggest asshole still officially belongs to our beloved chairman, Red." He stroked a hand down her hair, down the length of her back, savoring the feel of her, solid and warm against his palm. "And I don't give a shit about who knows that you are my wife. You know that." He shot a look—one long, pointed stare at Bernie. "I just don't like when people pry into my personal business is all."

"Great, _you_ can tell Marcus then."

He smiled then, and shook his head. "Yea, pass."

"Coward." Her lips twitching, Lia turned to head inside the CIC, but she'd only gotten a few steps when the alarms sounded. Cole jogged out of the barracks with his finger pressed to his earpiece, followed closely by Dom.

"Grubs?" Bernie asked.

"No, civvies shaping up for a riot," Dom said.

He glanced at Baird. He still hadn't come to terms with him being married to Lia. He wondered if he ever would. _What she see in him anyway? _He'd have to ask her the next time they were alone. One of the Ravens swooped overhead, circling around the area, which meant that whatever was going on, CIC was making sure to put an end to it and fast.

"Are the civvies gathering at the food distribution center?"

Even as she asked, Lia collected her Lancer and put in her earpiece. Dom just shook his head.

"No, Sector C medical station," he said. "Marcus is down there trying to maintain order but things are starting to get out of hand."

This was what Hoffman had been concerned about. People were dying from the cold and hunger. And they were angry and scared. Angry and scared people were a dangerous combination. Lia knew all too well how fragile civilization was. And how much civilization relied on order to remain unified during difficult times. Yeah, losing order was a dangerous threat to everyone's survival.

"Then let's go and give him a hand."

She turned and jogged after Cole.


	10. Unrest

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything in the GOW universe and I don't profit from this story except for the pleasure that it gives me —sadly heh. Reviews are always welcomed!

**A/N:** Just some reorganizing folks. Buttoning up and tightening up. A new chapter should be up very soon though.

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><p><em>SECTOR C MEDICAL STATION, PORT FARRALL.<em>

_Is this what we're fighting to preserve?_

Baird could see the mob that had gathered in front of the medical tent. He was about thirty feet away when the crowd spilled into something much more dangerous, with Marcus caught right smack dab in the middle of it. One of the medical personnel team went down hard on the concrete; the frenzied mob closing in around them like a living wall. Marcus waded into the center of about two hundred men, women and children, Lancer strapped to his back and arms held loosely as he simply shouldered his way through the masses. Lia couldn't help but feel a tingle of concern for his safety.

Armor or not, Marcus was taking a huge risk wading into a crowd on the fringe of hysteria. Just because the guy had cultivated this _don't-fuck-with-me_ attitude didn't mean that a few kicks to the head or a knife in one of the armors open spots couldn't do some damage. Marcus vanished within the sea of bodies and they lost sight of him. A few tense moments passed before a circle began to slowly form around him, allowing them to see that Marcus was standing his ground in the middle of the chaos and calmly letting blows bounce off his chest plates. A crack of gunfire echoed above the raised voices of the mob, quieting them instantly. Baird turned to see Lia holstering her sidearm before she went wading into the now silent crowd. He would have made a grab for her but the sight of the mob opening a path for her stopped him.

"Pair of bollocks on that girl, I swear."

Baird turned his head towards Bernie. Glared, one long frustrated stare. "She's fucking nuts is what she is."

"Blondie," Bernie said with as much patience as she could muster.

_That's his wife_, she told herself. _He's only worried for her safety_. And who wouldn't be given the mass mob that had gathered outside the medical tent? She shook her head.

"These people are scared and traumatized and just want someone they trust to tell them it's all going to be okay."

"And that person just has to be Lia, why?"

"Because Lia is the face that they've seen for the last six years man," Dom said quietly from behind him. "Come on, the civvies _know_ they can trust Lia. That she will listen to their problems and do her best to help resolve it."

"Standing in front of you is the frontline that _she's_ been serving on these last six years, Blondie," Bernie couldn't resist pointing out. "Right here, right in front of you is the true heart of the war, the one we've only been imagining while we were out in the field. And she's not only been at the front of the lines, but she's been fighting on two fronts—by working to preserve life through the use of medical techniques and by defending those lives when the grubs decided to pay a visit through the use of military weaponry."

Baird would normally have popped off some type of sarcastic comment about women and the frontline. When he didn't, Bernie realized just how deep his feelings for the Lieutenant ran. _Will he feel the same way when she is standing at the front of a regiment with a Lancer instead of a scalpel in hand though_? she wondered. The scuffle stopped but there were still soft murmurs and curses coming from the crowd. Baird, and whoever else was standing behind him, slowly spread out, rifles at the ready, in case things erupted into a firestorm again. The medical Gear that had been the recipient of the mob's anger stayed on the ground, head shielded by his arms and helmet, with Marcus standing like a ravenous dog over him. Lia walked to Marcus, her eyes cutting towards the crowd that began to move in around them.

"You okay, Harding?"

"I'm fine, ma'am," the personnel replied.

Baird noted that the man did not make a move to get up. Which, he had to admit was probably the wisest thing he could do considering the crazed look of the crowd. Lia turned to face the people crowding around them. It wasn't the men that were doing the swearing and murmuring she saw now; it was the women. And the gist of the lingo she was picking up was that the problem revolved around the children clutching at their parents' hands and legs. This wasn't a situation that Marcus could handle on his own, not without tempers flaring even hotter than they already were. _Shit, this isn't what any of the Gears behind me is really trained to do_, she realized.

Only a mother could understand the feelings of a mother and only a mother could speak to another mother. Marcus remained standing beside her, an immovable and intimidating mountain. Telling him to join the others was not an option, she knew him, knew that he wouldn't leave her to face this mob on her own. It was just his way, she told herself. But to gain an upper hand over the problem that the crowd was having and restore order, she had to reduce the threat. And a group of fully rigged Gears definitely qualified as a large threat to these war weary people. Lia signaled for the Gears to stand down, angling her head to glance at Marcus. Those strangely colored blue eyes flickered to hers briefly and he gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head to signal he understood what she was doing and would comply. Baird halted, Dom and Bernie right beside him, and waited to see what was going to happen next.

"Alright, I'd like everybody to step back," Lia said in a cool, clear voice. "Give us a little space. We're here to help, okay folks?" The shouts died down to a low hum and there was a little bit more space that opened up around them. "Thank you." She held out her right hand to the downed medical Gear and helped pull him to his feet. "Now, why don't you tell us what the problem is?"

She was using her _tell-the-doctor-what's-wrong_ voice. She pitched it perfectly, Dom thought, quietly enough so as to bring the situation back under a boil but firmly enough for the crowd to know that she was the one in charge. One of the women stepped forward.

"They told us that we wouldn't all be getting inoculated as we had been promised. That there is not enough of the medicine to go around."

The woman had the same well-bred tone Lia did. Her clothes might have been threadbare, but Baird saw that they were of good quality and in far better condition than what the majority of the crowd was wearing. Another woman that looked like a younger version of the first came forward to speak next.

"They say that they only have enough medicine to inoculate the first fifty children with. Our children are struggling to survive, what is the point of inoculating only a small group of them when all of them need the medicine?"

The woman's brown eyes shimmered with an emotion akin to hate. Seeing such virulent emotions on the woman's face sent warning chills spiraling down Baird's back. He took a step forward, intending to wade into the mob, and only barely felt the hand that Dom set on his shoulder.

"Hold on a minute," Dom whispered. "Give Lia a chance to deal with them, okay?"

Baird shot a look over his shoulder but did as Dom suggested. Dom understood his frustration and his concern, he would have felt the same way Baird was if it been Maria in the middle of that mob.

"I appreciate your concerns, ma'am's. But please understand that the medical team is still working on getting the medical stations organized. The medical team has been working around the clock to get every medical station in the camp properly equipped and supplied."

Lia spoke in the same quiet but firm voice that she had used before. She turned and saw Baird, gestured towards his Lancer with a discrete move of her hand. _Put it away_. He glared at her for a second but finally complied. She turned back to the women.

"I assure you that every man, woman and child will be inoculated just as soon as the stations have the medicine available for distribution."

It was obvious that these women weren't going to be placated so easily though. The older woman started up again.

"Why should we believe you? Why should we trust anything that you tell us?"

"Ma'am, I've-"

The other woman stabbed a finger at Lia. "Aren't you one of _them_ now anyway?"

Lia had no idea what to say, she just stared at the women in complete silence. Shock was stamped upon her face. Marcus stared at the women for a few moments in absolute silence. He'd been perfectly content with letting Lia handle the women. It was an area he could admit that he had little expertise or training in. Baird too saw the look on his wife's face. Cold fury coursed through him. He was about to storm into the midst of the crowd and tell the women just where they could go when Marcus simply straightened and leaned towards the woman, immediately threatening.

"Why should you believe the Lieutenant?" His voice was cold as ice. "How about the Lieutenant has never _lied_ to you, for one thing? How about she's a _doctor_ for another? If she's telling you that everybody will be inoculated once the medical stations receive the medicine, then don't you think you should believe her?"

Grateful, Lia reached over to set a hand on Marcus's arm. His words would either work to reinforce her point or make this situation worse than it already was. With the present mood going around it would only take one firecracker to ignite this mob into a blaze. When nothing immediate happened, Lia released the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"Okay." She passed her Lancer to Marcus. "Let's get some room here, folks."

For a moment, Baird thought the whole crowd, still absolutely silent, was either on the verge of backing up to give the requested room, or was on the brink of rushing in on them. His only concern was in getting Lia and Marcus out of there if the crowd decided to erupt into a blood-thirsty frenzy. They were effectively still surrounded by a wall of people. He got ready to fire a burst of fire over their heads.

But Marcus just set his shoulders and expression in his _don't-fuck-with-me_ way, and the crowd of people began to move out of his way. People normally did. Dom took that as his cue to fall in behind him with the others, forming an extended line of bodies that moved the crowd of civilians back until there was a path created between them and the medical tent. It may also have been the sobering but comforting appearance of the Cole Train ambling towards them that helped with diffusing the situation. Baird knew that Cole just tended to have that kind of effect on people.

"It sure don't take much to start pushin' people over the edge, does it?" Cole said. He waited with Baird as the crowd began to organize into a more civilized group. "Shit, we all behaved ourselves while the grubs were tearin' things up."

"That's because the Locust were a common threat that we all were united against," Baird said, watching as Lia began issuing orders. "Come on, Cole, let's go see if there isn't something we can help do."

Marcus was hefting boxes and turned to look at them as they approached. "Lia wants at least two boxes of the inoculation meds to be set in each station."

"No problem, baby," Cole said, already hefting one of the large metal boxes into his arms. "You just point the Cole Train to where you want 'em and I'll see that they get where they got to go."

"Please take that one over to station two, Cole," Lia said as she walked up to them. "And thank you for helping."

"You're welcome, ma'am." Cole strolled off with the box, heading for the station at the far end of the tent. A group of small kids broke away from the crowd to follow after him, calling his name and clamoring for his attention.

"Shit," Baird said. "They just love him."

"He's the calming presence the civvies need," Lia said. She turned to watch as Cole hefted two blonde-haired children up onto his shoulders. "He's a big guy with an even bigger heart, who cares about someone for who they are and not what they are."

"Yeah," Baird glanced at her from out the corner of his eye. _Even after everything we've been through, she still gets it_, he thought. "It's that whole charm offensive thing he does. Works better than telling the civvies 'hey, assholes don't go and get all pissy on us. It's the Chairman that's the lying sack of shit, not us. Honest."'

"They're just scared, Damon."

"They weren't scared enough to rebel in Jacinto."

His mouth was set on automatic fire, like usual, but he wasn't just cussing or bitching she realized. Lia glanced at his face and saw the same hot temper that it held in battle. _He's pissed about what the women said to me_, she realized. Despite knowing each other for over thirty-five years-and together for twenty of them- Lia discovered she could still be charmed and surprised when he took offense or stood up to someone that had insulted her. She used just the tips of her fingers, skimming them over the back of his head, his neck, down his back. Warm and soothing.

"Hey," she said softly. "Sticks and stones, remember?"

"Bullshit," he snapped. "Those bitches acted like you'd turned into a traitor or something."

"Anybody wearing COG armor and carrying a Lancer is going to seem like an enemy to the civvies at the moment," Marcus said. Lia expected that he would give them the entire COG speech about public affection lending proof to an assignation between an officer and an enlisted man, but he didn't. Instead he said; "Shit, its barely been a week since they banged out of Jacinto with what they could carry. Only to be expected that they are still a little jumpy."

"And already we've had riots over food and medicine," Baird pointed out. He anticipated a confrontation of some sort with Marcus when Lia was not around. And it was something that he was not particularly looking forward to.

"This is natural selection at its finest right here ladies and gentlemen. The civvies with balls will be the ones who will survive while the rest are going to be the first to perish. It's nature's way of weeding out the undesirables."

"Damon..."

"You were the Anthropology nut, Lia," he interjected softly. "Tell me that I'm just being an asshole but you can't deny my theory isn't spot on."

The hell of it was, he wasn't wrong. He had taken a number of the same anthropology classes she had, had listened to countless papers she'd written on the topic of natural selection, written a number of his own papers on the topic. But still, she thought, giving him a nudge with her elbow, he could try to be a little more _diplomatic_ with his choice of words.

"You aren't wrong, Damon. This is survival of the fittest in its basic, most simplistic form. Every resource that is available is in limited supply. Commonly, those who end up with access to the majority of those limited resources are the ones who are most fit and who are most likely to survive."

"It doesn't help that we banged out of Jacinto at the beginning of Frost, when foraging and hunting for additional resources is going to be the hardest."

"No," Lia agreed with a slight nod of the head. "That definitely works against us, I agree."

"Hoffman has to figure out a way to make sure that the civvies get the basic necessities they need until spring rolls around," Marcus replied. He'd nearly forgotten her desire to become an Anthropologist. She'd loved studying ancient civilizations, seeing how they had lived and adapted to the changing world around them. Like many people, the appearance of the Locust Horde had stolen her dream and plunged her straight into the middle of an apocalyptic nightmare. "We can worry about foraging for anything else we need so long as the basic necessities are met."

"And what happens when the basic necessities run out? Come on bru," Baird shot back. "It's not like the supplies we have are going to last forever. And we're not exactly setup to handle riots breaking out in the camp every few days when the civvies realize they are getting shafted."

"He's right, Marcus," Lia said with a sigh. "As much as I wish I could refute his logic, I know I can't. The supplies we brought with us when we bugged out of Jacinto won't last forever. And this camp is not equipped for riots over supplies any more than it is an invasion by the Locust. This could end up worse than the food riots from a few years back if we don't head it off while we have the chance."

"I know." Marcus heaved a weary sigh.

Like her, he remembered the food riots in Ephyra not long after the Hammer had fried the majority of the planet, and knew he would rather face down a hundred Berserkers than to have to charge civvies with civil disobedience again. He'd never felt right about the special privileges and allowances that were granted to him because of his standing as both a COG and the son of Adam Fenix. And he'd hated having to go after civvies that were just scared and hungry. He doubted if he still had what it took to shoot a civilian if the riots got that bad again.

"And that's what makes Lia and Granny so useful, man," Baird said. "They have all those survival skills that humanity needs right now."

"So, what exactly are you implying here, Damon," she said dryly. "That Mataki and I wouldn't be useful if we didn't have these survival skills?"

Baird made his _ffff_ sound. He was not falling into that particular trap, he told himself. Only an idiot would see the warning signs posted and continue down that dangerous path. And he was far from being an idiot.

"While I maintain that female Gears are still a bad idea," he saw his wife's eyes narrow dangerously and knew he'd better make his point and fast if he didn't want five across the face. "You and Granny have skills that are more important than knowing which end of a Lancer to cram up a grub's ass." When she merely rolled her eyes instead of smacking him upside the back of his head, he figured it was safe to continue. "I traded my skills for money the day I joined the COG, believing money was what was going to be needed when the war was over. But in a world that ain't got shit now, _skills_ are the new form of money and way more necessary than money ever was going to be."

"You're actually happy, aren't you?"

"Of course I'm happy, Lia. I'm going to get to do the shit I _like_ now. What could be better really?"

A thought entered his mind soon as he finished speaking, and made him question whether or not she knew that part of why he was happy was because he was finally going to get the chance to work at making a life with her and Alex. _Shit, she should know I am happier being with her than I am about doing shit I like_, he thought.

"Gee, and here I was thinking that you were happiest making grub explosives."

Yeah, her husband was going to be a useful guy in a world that was as fucked as theirs was. It wasn't just rebuilding machines or repairing vehicles that made Baird useful. And he knew it. She also knew that for one of the few times in his life, her husband felt he was worth something to the world at large. That he had a purpose other than maintaining a social appearance or standard. It made her unbearably sad that he still felt that way about himself. It also made her hate his parents even more than she did already. _Never understood your son did you, you pompous bastards_? She thought bitterly. _You never cared for his dreams or his happiness. Never stopped to consider what his needs were or what it was he wanted out of life._

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Baird replied cheerfully. "Nothing is more satisfying than seeing a grub become a big pile of goop. But I never wanted to enlist in the COG, as you know," he'd seen the shadow that momentarily darkened Lia's face, the way hatred turned her eyes to hell smoke and automatically sensed the source of her thoughts.

"Hey," he said quietly. "I'm getting to do what I always wanted and have the satisfaction of knowing my bitch of a mother is turning over in her grave because she can't stop me."

"She shouldn't have prevented you from doing what you wanted then, either," she muttered.

Baird brushed just the tips of his fingers against her cheek and marveled again at what a lucky son of a bitch he was. Marcus saw the affectionate display and busied himself by hefting another box of medicine and carrying it over to the empty table situated behind a gurney that had probably been around during the Pendulum Wars. He studied Baird's face as he slipped his knife from its sheath. He wasn't sure how he felt about the relationship between them, didn't particularly see what Lia saw in the surly, sarcastic dickhead, but it was obvious that they cared a great deal for each other and had cared about each other for a very long time. He shook his head. It was really none of his business, he told himself. As long as Baird treated her properly then he had no problem with them being together. _At least they were brave enough to break the rules_, he thought as he levered open the lid on the metal canister.

"Lia," Dom called from the other end of the tent. "How are you planning on distributing the medicine to the civvies?"

"Children will be inoculated first Dom," she called back. "Then, depending on if we have enough medicine left we will move on to inoculating the elderly and then the rest of the civvies until the supply runs out."

"Sounds good," he replied.

He, too, had seen that brief intimate moment between Baird and Lia. It was something when you realize that the guy that you thought you knew, that you'd been waist deep in the shit with for the last couple years, had more to him than you thought he did. Oh, Baird was still an obnoxious, smart mouthed little shit, but there was a human side to him—one that was clearly in love with his wife- that Dom hadn't thought probable. _Who could have thought it was possible considering the way the guy acts_? He thought before turning to lend Bernie a hand with one of the medicine crates. The crowd shifted restlessly but there was no seeming threat of them erupting into another blood-thirsty mob. Still, Marcus thought, it was probably a good idea that they remained until the medicine had all been handed out. He turned to Lia.

"We should have two Gears at each station," he suggested softly. "The crowd is calm for the moment but we both know that could change in an instant. No sense in taking chances."

"I was just thinking that myself, actually," she replied. "Plus, having Gears at each station to help with restocking will move the process along all the more quickly."

"Yeah."

There was only room for three stations in the medical tent, but Lia figured that was more than enough considering medical units were being established all throughout the camp. Each station was set up with a gurney and stocked with the necessary medical equipment as well as two boxes of the inoculation medicine. Once stocking of the stations was complete, Lia stationed one of the medical personnel to two of the stations before turning to face the Gears that were watching silently.

"Alright, here's what I want you guys to do," she said, scooping her hair up into a messy bun. "Bernie, I want you and Cole to help at station one. Dom, you and Baird take station two while Marcus and I will handle station three. Remember, we're only here to maintain order and make sure that everyone that can be inoculated, gets inoculated."

If any of them thought it was unusual that Lia had chosen to undertake the dual role of doctor and Gear, they didn't express it out loud.

"What happens when the supply runs out?" Bernie asked in a quiet voice.

Lia knew as well as all of them that the risk of the mob erupting when the meds ran out was high. But they had no other choice or options.

"We'll deal with that when the supply runs out," she said. "For now, all we can do is focus on inoculating those we can and tell those who haven't received the meds to come back tomorrow when more is likely to be available." She sighed softly then muttered; "That's all we can do at this point."

"Understood, ma'am," Bernie said.

In this game, rank and respect was everything. Lia understood that, just as she knew that Bernie was only upholding that tradition by addressing her as ma'am. But it made her uncomfortable. Sergeant Mataki would always be her CO, and just like with Marcus, she would always find herself cleaving to Bernie because she was the senior officer on the team. She would have a talk with Bernie about it later, she told herself. See if they couldn't come to an agreement that satisfied the both of them. For now, they had more important things to worry about. She walked with Marcus back to her station and began filling syringes with the amber-colored medicine. The medical staff worked its way through the lines steadily for the next hour, delivering shots to nearly all the civilians while the Gears maintained order and restocked supplies.

If they'd not been there, Baird doubted that they'd have managed to accomplish half of what they did. He turned once the last civilian had left his station and saw Lia holding up a hypodermic needle and checking the syringe for air bubbles. He watched the cool and competent way she delivered the shot, saw the warm and friendly way she spoke to the young woman, the unflinching trust that was on the woman's face. He was about to walk over and join her when he felt a slight tug on his hand. He jerked his hand back and glanced down, a stinging comment already springing to his lips. But the sight of the little girl looking up at him with dove gray eyes-his _wife's_ eyes he realized with a start- and strawberry-blonde curls framing a heart-shaped face stopped the retort dead in its tracks. _Oh shit_, he thought as the blood drained from his face. _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. She can't be_... He took a moment to get over his shock, to reorganize his thoughts before he crouched down to the girl.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Danielle."

_Oh shit_, he thought again. "Danielle what?"

"Danielle Carmine."


End file.
